∞ Everlast
by cheesynoodle
Summary: Two years after the meteor and Vincent is still dead to the world. But there's a problem: things are dying, fast and without a cure. It's only a matter of time before he finally realises what's happening to the planet, and to himself.     VY nom. Genisis
1. Chapter 1

∞ **EVERLAST**

**Chapter one.**

"Get ready. You're about to get one hell of an ass whoppin'." –Yuffie Kisaragi

The town of Nibelheim had always been a small, quiet type of town. Where everyone knew each other, and the only grocery store was named "Billy's Greens", while the hardware store doubled as an auto-repair even though no one really was in need of cars and such---there were really only three major streets, and everyone was in walking distance. It had always been like that, even through the sudden rise to power of the ShinRa electrical power company's. In fact, no one really even had a thought of expanding on the tiny town, or the rotting, decrypt mansion at the end of the road.

But it had to come eventually.

A young contractor thought up the idea the minute he set his eyes on the large mansion, overshadowing the little town. The propriety was huge, probably a few acres at least. They could rebuild the large mansion, or build a few other houses in its stead. The market was skyrocketing in that part of the country anyways. It wasn't like anybody was living there, and the rest of the residents had no need to keep the haunted thing around. The original owner, the ShinRa company was flushed down the toilet anyways. It couldn't afford to own this type of thing.

In only a few months, the bulldozers were brought in.

∞

Vincent slept fitfully, as always. A comatose state, silent as the dead, yet inside he was screaming and moaning, reliving every inch of his morbid, dreary past. Kept alive only by his body's incessant need to live; it certainly wasn't because of his doing. He never rose, not to eat, drink, or perform other human rituals. Time had no meaning or effect on him. After all he was ageless---why bother having friends if all you would do is watch them grow old and whither away into a pile of dust. No, he wouldn't force himself to bring sadness and other, darker feelings to his friends. They would be better without him. He would stay here, and pay in suffering for his past sins.

He was dead to the world.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

It was only when he heard the distant, muffled shouts (though other people wouldn't have heard anything but the pressing silence), and then the grumble and rumble of stone being moved forcefully, the old, steady timbers groaning as if it was the voice of the mansion as the heavy, fast force of the wreaking ball bursting through the age-old building. The timbres screamed, cracking like dusty bones before the merciless iron ball came crashing through. Something was wrong.

And for the first time in two years, Vincent rose.

He realized the roof was collapsing on into itself, falling… neatly, (as neatly as a huge pile of shingles, bats, wood, and whatever else can fall) the demolitionist would say. All of the furniture, piano, and other treasures had been removed prior. Of course, that didn't matter now. Vincent could practically hear the mansion's pained scream on the stale air. It rang through his head and heart. Someone was in his home, and was destroying it, in a very, very messy way.

Vincent rose angrily.

∞

Yuffie whistled to herself idly, tunelessly and with a complete lack of sense of proper pitch. The dusty dirt path puffed up a miniature cloud every time her yellow sneakers hit it, a steady drumbeat. A fresh breeze through the open fields, cooler than the current air. Probably from the mountains, she thought to herself, this thought one among many, as per usual. It was that and the large group of thoughts of _what_ exactly had happened to her breakfast, back at the tiny inn. It had positively vile, those rubber eggs. Green eggs and ham would've been better, she thought amusedly. Or one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. Or oopa-loompas. Wait, no, that wasn't from Dr. Sues… And so it went on.

She had been walking for the better part of the day, the warm summer's sun beating down on her. The sky was a clear blue, though she wouldn't have been surprised if a sudden storm cloud had decided to take a walk over to her just for a few minutes. The weather had been erratic all summer, the sky clear, void of clouds, and then in the next twenty minutes a grey-black bruise, pelting wary travelers with heavy rains. Even Wutai, who was used to extreme weathers caused by the sea on all sides, and the high mountain range south, was surprised at the ferocity of PMS-ing Mother Nature. They'd practically been having monsoons, and then sudden dry-spells.

Not only that, but the foliage had been attacked by a viscous mold disease. Even Wutai's famous cherry, or sakura, trees had been having problems. She had been grateful the late sakura trees had bloomed (though it had been a measly display compared to the previous year's), but she wasn't sure what the next year's call of spring and warmer temperatures would bring. She had trekked through a forest early yesterday, and had noticed the same mold-like stuff on the greenery. She could remember the forest before being thick and dense, almost jungle-like, and yet now she'd almost gotten a sunburn from the sun blazing through the nearly bare tree's boughs.

The royal gardeners at Wutai had tried everything from their regular, traditional remedies to the modern, 'Weed-Off!' crap, spraying it around with feverish desperation. But nothing had worked, much to their despair.

But that hadn't been the only problem. Wutai's fishing industries, a main source of income, had been suffering badly too. Fish had been dying, from what exactly nobody knew, but the vets had found something akin to mako poisoning. This had sprung up another round of worry: What if people had eaten mako-poisoned fish? It was only days after that the first lines of people had lined up in front of the capital's top hospital. In the slums you could walk down a road and see people left for dead, actual crystals forming on appendages, the person only breathing faintly. Yuffie sighed in anger; there had been nothing she could do---even the doctor's had been at a loss. More than fifteen years after Mako had been introduced, and there was _still_ no cure to the advance cases of the disease.

Wutai was dipping deeper into danger each day, and there didn't seem a chance of pulling it out. Her Wutai was dying.

When the call from Reeve had come, about another WRO mission, she had jumped at the opportunity. Now, weeks later, she felt almost guilty, cowardly, for abandoning Wutai in its moment of need. But it's not like I could do anything, the ninja reasoned quietly, unusaully somber. Godo could take care of it while she was away, anyways. And she'd had no idea what was happening with her friends out in the rest of the world, because of Wutai's detachment and independence.

She'd traveled through, preferring to take trains (which weren't as bad for her stomach) or just plain walking instead of a plane. On her way to Edge she'd dropped by the rest of her friends' places, learning that the rest of them weren't fairing much better. She hadn't been able to contact Vincent.

She'd arrived at Edge, staying for a few days at Tifa's bar, a new Seventh Heaven, before meeting up with Reeve to be briefed. He'd yattered on about a kidnapping of one of the big electricity companies' daughter being kidnapped by some bounty hunters. Obviously she hadn't paid much attention. But one thing had caught her ear:

"Yuffie? Yuffie, are you listening? Yuffie! YUFFIE! Thank you…finally… as I was saying, your partner will be Vincent. I need to---"

"VINCENT! You mean the vampire, Vincent Valentine?" she had exclaimed, suddenly wide-eyed, quite clearly displaying attention.

Reeve had nodded hesitantly.

"Are you _sure_? I mean, you mean Vincent _Valentine? _Mister Depressed-diaper? The one who sleep in the coffin? Ex-Turk, the one who broods 24/7?"

"_Yes, _Yuffie. Valentine."

She had laughed nervously; they hadn't exactly parted on good terms. "Are sure I have to take him? I mean, why can't I take someone else? He's probably off snoring in his coffin anyways."

Reeve had simply raised an eyebrow before shaking his head, "No, I have to tell him something. I've found another set of files that I believe may relate to him. I thought he might be interested."

She'd snorted, "_Interested?_ Reeve, Vincent won't care. He'll just want to go on with his naptime. He'll be about as interested as a block of wood. No, a rock. Yeah, I like rock. Wood is too…woody."

But Reeve hadn't listened, insisting that it was _important,_ blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.

So here she was, trudging off to the stupid old town, where nothing _ever _happened, Nibelheim.

She blinked, looking up to the large arch, with the letters N-I-B-E-L-H-E-I-M neatly saughtered on. She hadn't realized she'd arrived.

Cracked cobblestones wriggled as they came loose when she stepped, old and wearing. Neat, little gingerbread houses lined the road, the weird little statue thing in the center shining proud. It was like something out of a little-kids book. She made her way to the inn first, paying for a room (she'd tried bartering, but the little man had threatened to throw her out if she didn't pay the proper amount. She'd forgotten you didn't do that here. Not that she really cared to follow the unsaid rule.) and dropping what few belongings she had on her on a large bed. Finally she headed off up the road to the mansion. Might as well get it over with.

When the sounds of construction had first met her ears, she'd brushed them off, assuming it was just another house getting a renovation.

When she rounded the corner and saw the yellow bulldozer coming down the road from the direction of the mansion, she started feeling a niggling touch of worry.

When she saw the house…well, she reacted quite violently.

"WHAT THE F#$ ARE YOU IDOTS DOING? VINNIE'S GONNA TEAR YOU APART!!!" She ran up to the nearest construction worker, shouting right in his face, large mouth ready and working hard. "YOU F#$ING IDIOTS!!!" Obviously she'd been hanging around Cid too much. Man, she probably had second hand smoke stuck in her lungs "YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D ACTUALLY DARE TO RIP DOWN THE FRIGGIN' OLD-FART MANSION!" The man was quivering in a matter of seconds. She only stopped her tirade when she heard a particularly large wooden beam give a groan then collapse. By now all the workers had stopped working to stare at the little rage in front of them. Even the crane and ball was still.

"WHERE'S YOUR BOSS?" She shouted in his face, spraying bits of spit all over. He didn't dare wipe it off. Instead he raised a shaky finger, pointing over to a large man in the center of a group, a dark frown growing with each passing second on his face. Yuffie stomped over, her own face red, bright grey eyes glinting with that slightly mad, slightly killer glint that arrived whenever she got mad. Really mad.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" She added in a few colorful swears. She was'a makin' Cid proud.

The man stiffened slightly before responding, voice growing louder, as if in competition with her own. "I'm demolishing this building, as I was contracted to."

"BUT VINNIE IS IN THERE!"

"…There is no one in there, miss. I think you should step back and go home." His voice added a bit of edge.

"BUT HE'S IN THERE. HE'S ALWAYS IN THERE."

The man didn't respond.

"VINCENT _VALENTINE_." She actually sounded a bit desperate or worried, if only for their sakes.

"I'm sorry Miss, but we know for a fact that there is _no one_ in the ShinRa mansion." He dropped the act, "SO IF YOU DON'T GET THE F#$ AWAY, I'LL---"

He paused, finally realizing that no one was paying attention to him. Instead, all eyes were trained on the wreck in front of them, eyes wide in surprise.

Yuffie smiled darkly, not the least bit surprised. No, her eyes were in fact filled with anticipation and a knowing glint. "Get ready. You're about to get one hell of an ass whoppin'."

Vincent Valentine had arrived.

He walked from the rubble, dust still floating in the air from the recent smash. He walked down the length of a large timber (Much to his annoyance. He'd been trapped for a while in the basement, and had only gotten out to find the only way out was up.) cloak billowing furiously, as if it was alive, bloody red against the suddenly dark sky. It was like the sun had run away---scared by the darkness he positively _oozed_. Funny, the sun being afraid of the vampire, instead of the vampire being afraid of it.

A cool breeze suddenly whipped through, tearing apart the muggy afternoon's heat like a knife. Thunder crackled distantly, and lightning zipped down, tears of white in the sky's cloth.

It was obviously another erratic change in weather, bringing cold from the mountains and those weird, rain-less thunderstorms you get in extreme heat and dry-spells. But the construction crew didn't need to know that.

They were frozen standing, some physically shaking, though they didn't notice---all eyes were glued to the murderous figure, black on red on white, red on white on black. Yuffie noted with glee one had actually pissed on himself. She turned her gaze back to the boss, who was riveted to the spot, mouth hanging wide open, and his gaze void of anything but fear.

She giggled, "Told ya so."

Vincent paused, surveying the damage done with his crimson gaze, before looking back, over to where Yuffie was with the seemingly man-in-charge. He noted with distant surprise that she was grinning that silly, huge grin of hers. He frowned, and then suddenly jumped, no leaped, a good ten meters, landing gracefully dead center in front of the older man. It was fair to say that, as tall and wide as the elderly man was, Vincent was a giant. Yuffie didn't remember him being that tall---maybe he'd had a growth spurt.

Vincent stood silent, still as the dead, staring at the man with his red eyes. The man stared back, not in a contest, but then again, what else could he do? Sweat poured down him in waves, rolling over his flab of excesses flesh.

The shot came first, making everyone squeeze their eyes shut, even Yuffie, cringing as if waiting for the sudden splash of blood to hit her. She waited. But nothing came. She hesitantly opened her eyes, before staring at the men before her.

Vincent had his gun, all of the giant two feet of Cerberus pressed against the man's forehead. She winced; she knew how hot the muzzle was after firing. But a grin quickly replaced it; she could already imagine the three angry red circles that would be there forever more. But she both grateful and surprised: Vincent had only shot the ground between the man's feet, not the man. Now he spoke only one syllable, quiet, yet it rang through the suddenly silent air.

"Leave."

But the man didn't move, so shaken he was. Yuffie frowned, uh oh…

"Now."

And then the other men moved---one sprinting away surprisingly quickly for his large girth. It was took only one, before the rest moved, running as fast as their legs could carry them. By now the boss had fell back on his fat bottom, but was up and running before Vincent shot again. And didn't miss.

It was silent for a moment more, before in one sleek movement Vincent had holstered his guns. The world returned to normal, birds chirping once again, the sky a bit clearer, though it was clear they were going to get a major thunderstorm soon.

"VINNIE!!"

Said man finally turned and acknowledged her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yuffie."

She quickly ran the short distance to give him a hug, grin on full-force and blaring. A hand on the head stopped her. Vincent had stopped her at literally arms-length. She waved her arms furtively before giving up. She sighed, damn, he'd remembered.

"Where's the materia, Yuffie?"

Grumbling a little at his harsh voice, she drew out a pouch from the inside of her shorts. Vincent's eye twitched. She opened the drawstring pouch, rooting around in it for a while before drawing out a few of the marble-sized, glowing gems, dumping them into a waiting metal claw.

Vincent shoved them in a random pocket in his large, ripped cloak. He looked pointedly still.

"What're ya lookin' at me like that for?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Fine, FINE! I'm _sorry_ about the kissy lipsticks on yur damn coffin! There! Feel better?" She muttered something about a stick somewhere. The gunman sighed, looking up at the heavens before turning around and going back towards the pile of rubble that used to be the stately mansion. Yuffie's eyebrows jacked up a notch.

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Vincent winced as the ninja ran round to face him, "Where do you think you're going, mister? I didn't come all this way to let you go back to naptime in the damn coffin? You spend WAY too much time there anyways! You just _have_ to go and moan on and on and on about that stupid dead chick…" And it went on, though Vincent stopped listening quite quickly. "Hey! HEY!" He swung his gaze slowly around to her. "Well what I was going to tell you is that Reeve has a WRO mission for us---"

"Not interested." He started walking back.

"Huh? Wha---wait! Reeve said he had to tell you something! Said he had some files on you!" Vincent stopped, turning around to her, eyes keen on her, yet still full to the brim of nothing. Yuffie slid to a stop. "Yeah! He said he wanted me to get you so he could give them to you. Said they were important! He actually sounded really worried…" She trailed off. Now that she thought about it, he really _had_ sounded anxious. Maybe something _was_ wrong.

She only realized Vincent had moved when she felt the end of his ratty cloak brush over her arm with rough fingers, making her shiver. Geez the guy creepy. But to her surprise, once again, he wasn't walking back to the mansion. Instead he walked towards town, down the street. She hurried to catch up to him. "Hey, where ya going?"

He didn't stop, eating up ground quickly with long legs. "Edge."

Yuffie raised her eyebrows, then glanced back at the poor building. She actually sort of felt sorry for the thing.

But maybe it was for the best.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Heya!!! Hope you liked the first chapter of Everlast!!! It's actually my first official fic(let), based on Yuffintine. I'm really excited for it---I have a lot planned or it. I'm gong to try to keep the chapter's quite long, though I'm not sure exactly how long. It depend upon the type and amount of matter I squeeze in, and when I find the spot to end it. That's why I'm not that happy with the way the first chapter ended. I usually like to leave you hanging at least a bit, but I wanted to give you a longer chapter. Meh, whatever.

Oh, and sorry for any funky formatting… I'm not sure exactly what'll happen when I submit the file of this type.

Hope you liked it! And PLEASE review! It really is nice to get some feedback!

Ciao,

Cheesynoodle xox

∞ ∞ ∞


	2. Chapter 2

"_Hey, where ya going?"_

_He didn't stop, eating up ground quickly with long legs. "Edge."_

_Yuffie raised her eyebrows, then glanced back at the poor building. She actually sort of felt sorry for the thing. _

_But maybe it was for the best._

∞ **EVERLAST**

**Chapter Two.**

"Oho! Vinnie's a' swearin' now, eh? What's gonna happen next? I swear I heard Tifa's scream as she saw her boobs shrink, and Cloud's when his hair finally---" –Yuffie Kisaragi

Yuffie sighed wearily, shifting her sitting position on the crates, making them creak loudly. It earned her a glare from Vincent, who was currently standing, peeking into the old, rusty warehouse's small window, where a dim, ghostly light was shining through. The window was too tall for Yuffie, much to her dismay, and she'd dumped the task of waiting for the opportune moment to ambush to her taller friend. Besides, she wasn't here to wait for the smelly hogs to go to sleep before attacking. If _she_ were in charge (which she wasn't) she would have had this done hours ago. Now though, they were still waiting, the sun slowly staining the sky a peachy orange, waves lapping the sandy shore softly, the salty smell of the ocean wafting to her with every breath of the faint breeze. On the horizon, west of here, she could see the dark edges of a thundercloud.

Everything was silent; the only sound was of the waves and the fading calls of the gulls, softly lulling her to sleep.

∞

They made good time, as per usual when walking with someone like Vincent Valentine, who barely stopped, even for someone like Yuffie, who whined _constantly_. It was always, "My feet hurt", "My head hurts", "I'm too tired", "Eek! Something just crawled up my shorts!" and so on. By the last hour or so she was only doing it to annoy him, or get _some_ kind of reaction out of him. He never responded at all! I mean, Yuffie thought to herself, at least Cid or Barret would actually say something back. Then she'd at least know what they were thinking. But all she got off Vincent was the ever-constant evil-vibes and an occasional glare if she was lucky. He was impossible!

"You're impossible!"

Needless to say it wasn't a nice journey for Yuffie. She was bored out of her mind. She even got so desperate to talk, do _something_ that she turned to yattering on constantly, non-stop. Honestly, it was an amazing feat. She was quite proud of herself (though she hadn't liked the conditions and hadn't really enjoyed doing it). Really, there's only so much you can talk about when you're seeing the same type of scenery pass you by at an agonizingly slow pace for an entire week. She should try out for a World Record, of talking non-stop…maybe then she'd finally be super famous and get a funkadelic prize.

They arrived at Edge in less than a week, hooking up with Tifa and Cloud at the bar, and staying there for the night before heading off to one of the towering buildings that was the WRO headquarters. Yuffie was grateful for the soft and squishy beds; even if she'd had a misplaced stuffy of Marlene's poking her into the side all night long. She'd been too tired to care. They'd only stopped to sleep in the scattered small inns that the came upon, even sleeping out on the road, one of them keeping watch---which meant Yuffie snoring (though she'd slept fitfully, the light sleep you adopted when you knew something could spring you at any moment, even with an equally menacing gunslinger sitting by you. Actually, maybe that was part of the problem…) while Vincent sat a fair ways away, alert and ever watchful. Yuffie had completely dismissed the idea of him sleeping (he'd had a good, long nap in that coffin), and he simply didn't need to. His body was fine, and nightmares would plague him anyways.

They headed off towards the buildings bright and early (much to the annoyance of Yuffie). Vincent saw no need to hang around, not particularly a morning person himself. He only accepted a brief cup of coffee from the ever-polite Tifa, before going up to drag one very sleepy and pissed Yuffie out of bed. He got a foot in the face and a very loud scream of "PERVERT!" before he left her to her devices and waited by the door.

Now, they arrived at the large building not too worse for wear, (though Yuffie was oddly quiet except for the occasional mumble and grumble, while Vincent's temper was too high for his taste) and walked through the lobby of the clean-cut, modern headquarters. Complete with those plastic, too green, apples you see in magazines set in a bowl on a side table. After talking to the secretary (who was quite the 'looker' Vincent noted absently) and letting her page Reeve, they were directed to the elevator and top floor.

The elevator ride was quite awkward.

But Yuffie was successfully yattering on and on by the time they arrived. Her talkativeness only increased as she saw the new Cait Sith hopped up to greet them atop his huge moogle.

"CAIT!!! How ya doin'? Man I haven't seen you for EVER! Did you get all tuned up while you were gone? I was in Wutai for a while, but it got all bad there, so I came back to see everybody! Anyways, I ended up having to go wake up Vince! Man that was funny!" Vincent winced at the nickname, but continued walking briskly down the long hall, barely glancing at the fantastic view the long stretch of windows to his left provided. And he hadn't recalled that experience as particularly 'fun'. "And he was all mope and mean on the way here! Anyways, what've you been up to, eh? Can you tell fortunes still?"

Cait was all too eager to talk with her, performing his weird, rocking dance before pulling a piece of colorful paper out of the moogle's ear. He kept talking, handing it to Yuffie. "…It was really boring, though I guess I was out of commission for quite a while! But Reeve played around with my circuits for a bit," he winced in a disgusted way, smiling at Yuffie's yell of "Grossness!" Before, "but the good news is that I don't have to be controlled by him as much. I'm still the old Cait Sith, though! So what did ya get?"

Yuffie held up the tiny piece of paper, squinting to see the small, loopy writing. "Uh… Time is what keeps things from happening all at once'…" She frowned, "Well that's stupid. Hey," she flipped over, "my lucky colour is red! Hear that Vince? You're lucky!" Vincent didn't bother to correct her on her logic.

They soon came up to a larger door, then entered through, into a large, mostly bare room, a large desk at the other end, a large window behind. A figure sat in the chair.

"REEVE!" Yuffie really did have a habit of doing that whenever meeting someone. She ran over, sneakers pounding the laminate and immaculate surface. Reeve smiled warmly, blue eyes sparkling happily. Yuffie swung to a halt, already letting an earful hit Reeve. Vincent walked leisurely across the room, stiff though long strides carrying him quickly.

Reeve nodded to him, still absorbed in Yuffie's one-sided conversation, shooting in a word or two. How he managed to do that was beyond Vincent. It worked though---Yuffie had quieted down within a few minutes. Reeve leaned forward, hands clasped together, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the desk. Reeve was a clean person on the surface, but Vincent had no doubts that the inside drawers were stuffed to the brim with papers, pens both full and empty, candy bar wrappers, and other trinkets. It proved true when he yanked open the desk drawer firmly, rooting around for a few seconds before pulling out a file.

Again he turned to them, Yuffie and Vincent no seated on square-shaped black chairs, Yuffie bouncing erratically, Vincent sitting still and quiet.

"So. I asked Yuffie to get you because I had some important files about your…uh, operation years ago, that some of my staff rooted up. We were cleaning out the old ruins of the ShinRa tower, and found them in the basement, which was mostly intact. I'm afraid they got lost in our system's files though…" He laughed, albeit a bit hesitantly, "I'm afraid they probably won't be found for a few days. My secretary's hopeless." Vincent raised an eyebrow, while Yuffie was practically falling asleep in her chair. Definitely not a morning person. "Though I do have an important WRO mission for you two." He glanced at Yuffie, who had suddenly perked up. "One of the main electricity companies has lost an important person. The CEO's daughter has been kidnapped, supposedly by some bounty hunters. They're currently taking her to Costa De Sol, where they are going to turn her over to another illegal organization. You two will intercept them at Costa De Sol, hopefully before the actual transaction occurs. They should be holding her in one of the warehouses near the port." He paused before adding, "WE should hopefully have the file by the time you get back."

Yuffie had been ecstatic when Reeve had first said Costa De Sol, though that meant a plane ride, while Vincent had simply sighed at the inconvenience.

When they finally arrived, though, that was another matter. They'd only rested for a few hours before heading down to the bay, not even setting a foot on the soft white sand. Instead they continued along, to the harbor's side, where the shores were only lined with washed up seaweed and dead fish, the occasional jelly-fish getting a poke from the toe of her yellow sneakers. They'd checked each warehouse, opting for the dirtier and older, unused ones first. Some housed the occasional grouping of crates, but most were empty---the roof leaky enough to let in a fair amount of rainwater when the sky so chose.

"Yuffie?"

They'd found the first men in one of those one's, furthest away from the city, the only sign of habitation a large, nicely finished boat docked not far away.

"Yuffie."

"Wake up, Yuffie."

∞

Vincent sighed, looking down at the young ninja currently dead to the world, head smushed against the rusty metal of the building, snoring softly. She'd have an orange mark on that cheek. He shook her shoulder a few time, but to no avail. He didn't dare say her name any louder---the brutes inside were quite dumb, but not _that_ oblivious. Maybe he really should've let her rest a bit more. They'd been here for hours anyways.

Steeling himself, he resorted to the last method of waking sleeping beauty he knew. And no, it wasn't a kiss.

Pulling off one glove, he placed his gauntlet against her mouth, careful to keep the sharpened edges away from skin. Taking one long, pale digit, he stuck it in his mouth.

And then proceeded to stick it in her ear, wriggling it around as much as he could.

Needless to say she woke up.

"HOLY F---" His claw clamped down on her mouth, quickly quieting her. Large grey eyes stared accusingly at him, who was currently listening intently to hear if the criminals inside had heard her. Slowly removing his claw, he allowed her to speak.

"D-did you just… give me a, a Wet Willy?" she whispered incredulously. He nodded, if not looking somewhat pained. She broke out into a grin, "Vinnie, I am so proud of you! I mean, you actually attempted something that was funny, man, that's so cool. Though you really didn't need to do it on me. Cloud would've been funnier. Man, I remember when I did that to Cid. I could've sworn I had a huge hunk o' orange crap stuck on my finger after that. He really does need to wash his ears---" But the man shut her up with a glare.

"They've let their guard down. We strike now."

Yuffie resisted the urge to laugh at his cryptic language. Instead, she scrambled up the wall and onto the roof, much to the displeasurement of Vincent.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She scuttled across, towards the centre of the roof, "I have the advantage of surprise---and I'm gonna use it!"

"Yuffie, get back here, now."

"No."

"Yuffie---"

"No."

"…"

"Don't give me that look, Vinnie!"

"…"

"It's not gonna work."

"…"

"…"

"Yuffie, get your _ass_ back here."

"Oho! Vinnie's a' swearin' now, eh?" She chuckled, shaking her head, "What's gonna happen next? I swear I heard Tifa's scream as she saw her boobs shrink, and Cloud's when his hair finally---" It was then that the unstable roof finally decided

to give way, done holding up the slight ninja.

She certainly had the element of surprise.

∞

Joel was nervous.

He'd been through these types of things hundreds of times. And yet again, he had that queasy, "uh oh" sort of feeling whenever it came around to it. That dark, curling feeling in his gut. Tonight it was especially strong, even though it was tonight that it was his first time in second in command. He'd killed the other bounty hunter, the old fart who'd been second to the Boss. He snickered at the thought. Snuck up in the middle o' the night, an' shot the bastard right in the forehead, point blank. Messy, yes, but he didn't care. He got the job done. And he was good at what he did.

He'd met up with this gang at the young age of twelve, a bit young, but that doesn't hurt anybody. He'd been big enough to hold a gun. A big one at that. He fondly recalled how he'd been the bigger ones out of the kids. He'd always been, that brute force, hulking in shadow and gut, but with that deadly edge that sent people shaking in their boots. He was a giant, but he liked it that way.

The gang called themselves bounty hunters, but it was more of a bunch of big, burly men who followed the Boss, the genuine hunter among them. Man, those men ha a lot of respect for their leader, the slippery arse. They'd follow him into hell, and, hopefully, back. Not to say they were the honorable type of folk.

It was in fact a show of great skill, guts, and whatever else you felt like to be a slippery, dishonorable bastard. There was always a bit of tension, a bit of distrust, in the gang. After all, you never knew who'd betray you. As they say: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

So yes, he was used to that ugly gut feeling of unease. But tonight was different. The Boss had left _him_ in charge, while he went to get the guys who were going to pay them. Left him with the bounty. Big thing, that was.

Speaking of which, the little thing was tied up on a chair, in the centre of the room. She was a pretty thing, but had a nasty mouth if you actually felt nice enough not to gag the thing. She'd put up a good fuss, but after a few well-placed touches and few good, solid threats she'd shut up. He glanced over at her tear-stained face. Nope, she wasn't the ugliest thing on the planet. Some of the other boys had wanted to keep her, but he'd denied---they were gonna get money, not a girl. He'd actually felt quite the hero when he'd said that.

Now all was quiet, empty except for the occasional scuffle or shout that came from the few guys that were playing a round of cards over at the back, another had an actual laptop, probably looking at some 'wanted' ads on the internet. Stupid, unprofessional thugs. The sun was going down in a creamy mix of yellows and oranges, the warm light sneaking in from the few windows that weren't boarded up. He missed the slight shift of the shadows cast by an object in the window.

So things had gone well, despite the bad feeling residing in his gut. But not for long.

He had no warning, none except for the slight creak of the roof's old frame, before the entire thing collapsed, and something had fallen down, landing in the pile of wood and metal sheeting with an "oomph!" The thing then proceeded to let out a string of swear words that would've had even _his_ ears going red.

It took him a moment to realize what exactly the thing was, before it came to him. It was just a little girl. Ha! The stupid gal must've been climbing on top of the roof! His eyes narrowed, that didn't matter anymore, though. She'd seen the bounty, and now she couldn't leave.

"Get 'er, men!" It took the other men a moment to comprehend that it was, in fact, they that he was talking to. It was in that second that the second figure came, just as they sprung up.

∞

Vince always was good at his image, Yuffie realized. Never failed at the whole, vampire thing. I mean, the red, creepy cloak and black outfit just screamed it, she thought, and the red eyes and claw, not mention creepy paleness and black hair.

She'd crashed right through, only a few feet away from the leader here. The guy had paused, before letting out a growl. Supposedly that was the way he talked, because the rest of the men sprang into action. Vincent was dealing with the others, whirling around to two, spreading his arms wide (as if he was going to hug them, she though giddily) and revealed his two guns, Cerberus and Death Penalty. Wow, didn't know he could do that.

The first two shots hit their mark straight and true, before he whirled around to the others who were charging at him. He flipped one easily before ducking and shooting the others back, swinging again to hit the previous man. It was amazing, fluid and precise.

Draw.

Boom.

Flip, swerve, boom, boom.

The first four were gone in a matter of seconds. Shot down like tin cans, blood flying in fireworks before reserving itself to a trickle down the back, a broken dam of the body's. Vincent was already turning to the hostage, the daughter, who looked terrified, untying the large, complex knots with nimble fingers.

Meanwhile, Yuffie had her hands full. The leader charged, giving her barely enough time to scramble out of the way, into one of the basic fighting position. Already she could feel sticky warm blood on her stomach, supposedly where there was a cut. She only hoped it wouldn't hinder her. She leaped away some more, buying her some time to grab the Conformer on her back. But her hands met empty air. Eyes wide, she frantically searched for the gleaming blades she knew so well. She briefly spotted it at the edge of the pile of rubble; it had fallen off her back in her fall.

But the giant, hulk of the man blocked her vision too soon, catching her in surprise. He was like a charging bull, she thought to herself. He used his brute force alone. She flipped over him, performing a neat somersault in the air, before jabbing into the middle of him back with a foot. Flipping around she hit the ground with several gleaming knives displayed between fingers. One of her favorite weapons, those throwing knives were. She threw one, watching as it flew through the air, no sound except for the slightest _whirr _if you listened close enough. But the man didn't, he barely had enough time to duck, throwing himself to the ground. Yuffie's playful eyes narrowed. The man was good enough to avoid her daggers. She decided to take the offensive, instead of her automatic defense. Grabbing a nearby metal pole from the caved-in roof, she twirled it effectively. Ninja's didn't just use an over-sized shiriken. No, in order to become a full-fledged ninja you had to master all of the eighteen focuses of ninjutsu. One of which was naginate, or pole weapons.

The man in front of her slowed as she twirled the deadly metal with professional ease. He started backing up, keeping his eyes on her until he suddenly turned and ran, presumably towards his machine gun in the corner. He took two steps before she was on him.

She whacked him in the side of the head, then swivled and side-stepped around while he saw stars, following up with attacks to his sides, bar a blur in her nimble fingers. Finally he regained enough sense to blindly lash out a fist, forcing her to stop her windmill of hits. Instead she back-pedaled and swooped low, knocking his feet out from under him. She was about to follow with a solid smack upside the head, but saw he'd momentarily blacked-out from his head colliding with the floor, a resounding _smack_.

"Yuffie, enough playing around!" She looked over at Vincent who had the girl slung about his shoulders, much to Yuffie's amusement. Apparently she'd fainted from shock, though she wouldn't put it past her just to fake it, so Vincent would carry her. Yuffie happened to wonder just what exactly it would feel like…

She grinned sneakily, and then dashed back to the initial pile of rubble she'd fallen through with, grabbing the gleaming Conformer. She ran over to Vincent, smiling happily as he pointed to the large garage door to the building.

"You should be able to pry it open with the Conformer, then lift it up the rest of the way."

She skipped over, grumbling about how it "wasn't a ladies job", but did as he told. She pried it open, squeezing gloved fingers under the lip, and then heaved with all her might. She smiled as she saw the first signs of the glowing orange light, the door sliding easily up after the first few feet.

But there was a problem.

"Oh, _shit!_"

Standing in front of her, faces surprised, before turning to stormy frowns was the rest of the gang. A man in front stepped forward, eyes a piercing blue, which matched his hair. A long scar ran down his face, freezing it in an ever-present frown. But there was something that stood out more than all---the man was as short as Yuffie!

She would have laughed, but the thought was stopped dead as each man pulled a deadly machine gun from behind their back. Eyes wide, she did the only thing she could do: slam the door.

It rolled down easily, but she didn't have the time to fully shut it on the last few feet. Running back to Vincent who had been looking at the page opened on the laptop, she didn't dare to turn to see if they had rolled it up again.

"What the HELL are we going to do?" She screamed, jumping from spot to spot as Vincent looked around. They didn't have _time_ to stand around and stare---they were going to get shot! Things were totally out of control now. Their only exit was being blocked, and Vincent wasn't moving quick enough with the girl hindering him. "Where do we go? The door's blocked!"

Red eyes swung around the room, looking for a way out. Yuffie was right---not only were they out-numbered in both men and weapons; they had no exit. Scanning the room, all he saw were a few piles of crates, a table with a few beer bottles and lighters, and an old motorbike. There was no other way out, other than the door. Than it hit him. The hole in the roof. It was the only other way to escape.

"Yuffie, we're going to go out through the hole in the roof." He stated resolutely.

"WHAT? But we'll never be able to make it up there with the damn girl! And they're going to come through any minute!" She exclaimed. Vincent just narrowed his eyes, a quickly formulating a plan.

"Look, I need you to keep them at bay as long as possible." Yuffie was still jumping around, frantic with worry. "Yuffie!" His sudden raised voice startled her into listening. "Keep them at bay for as long as you can. When I tell you to, you're going to run back to me as _fast as you can._" He looked at her imploringly.

An odd thing happened then. Yuffie snapped into stillness, grinning bravely. Her body had given up to her mind, years of fights training her to escape fear, or at least ignore it for the time being. All of a sudden she could remember her days back with the entire AVALANCHE group, trying to save the planet. She shook her head fiercely, before spinning around and sprinting back to the door, throwing Conformer with deadly accuracy at the men's visible body parts, which were thankfully still only from the waist down. Yuffie smiled as she heard several screams of pain as the silver metal faithfully returned to her.

∞

Vincent quickly dropped the girl, dropping her non-too gently on the ground behind a large crate, before running over the table with the empty bottles of beer. He first shoved the lighter into a pocket of his cloak, before grabbing the four bottles. Dashing a short ways over to the old and rusting motorbike he ripped the sheet from off of it. He bent down, surveying the mess of wires and cables, before pulling a longer tube off of it. Opening the oil-cap, he stuck one end in the fuel tank, and sucked on the other end before hurriedly sticking it through into the neck of the bottle, watching as the dark liquid spurted out into the dark brown bottle. He proceeded to fill each one, desperately hoping that there was enough oil in the tank (thank the gods there even was _any_), or that Yuffie's defense wouldn't break.

He started ripping large, yet long pieces of his cloak, soaking them with the last bit of gasoline before shoving a piece firmly into each bottle, listening keenly for a clue as to what was going on up front. He needed to hurry---he could hear the rapid burst of gunfire, along with a few guttural screams, hopefully not from Yuffie. He almost smiled as he heard a shout of "Vincent, hurry your ass up!" Almost.

∞

Yuffie wasn't doing well. By now she had used up all her ninja stars and throwing knives, desperately throwing her Conformer again and again. She could tell she'd fatally wounded some, but they'd had the brains enough to have a back row of men shooting at the available space under the lip of the large door. She'd stuck only of her smaller shiriken in the device that pulled open the garage door, but they were still lifting it inch by inch.

"Vincent, hurry your ass up!" She was fighting a losing battle, here, and what was he doing? She glanced back, catching sight of the gunslinger lighting something that was sticking out of a bottle. Oh, so he decided to make candles while she was up here, fighting for her life?

"Yuffie! Quickly, come back!" She obeyed, knowing not to question Vincent in a life-and-death situation. She sprinted back, flying on her feet, focusing only on Vincent's red attire. A few blackened bottles flew past her, a tiny fire erupting on their tips, before they flew out of her vision. Bombs! Vincent had made Molotov Cocktails!

Flying up to the gunman, who was lugging the girl onto the tops of crates, she yelled, "COCKTAILS? F#$ VINCENT, YOU'RE A GENIUS---" A few, loud explosions cutting her off. The young ninja quickly leaped from crate to crate, helping Vincent up onto the highest before helping him up with the girl, before jumping up onto the edges of the roof that were still holding on. She only hoped they didn't collapse again. She reached down for the girl (who was apparently actually out for the count), heaving her up onto the roof beside her. Dimly she realized the fire was spreading quickly from the wooden crates onto their neighbor's. Not only that, but she could still hear shouts from the entrance. They were going to go free, though. She knew it.

But just as Vincent was getting ready to jump, a figure came into view. The shorty from earlier, Yuffie realized. The figure raised a gleaming pistol, aiming and shooting. Yuffie screamed out, but not quick enough. She watched as the invisible bullet pierced his shoulder, the only sign a sudden wince from the man and a splash of blood.

Letting out another cry, she threw the Conformer as hard as she could, the blades whirring as it flashed down, cleanly cutting the man's chest a good few inches deep. Yuffie didn't watch the gore show, instead again heaving Vincent up, before slinging the girl awkwardly over her shoulder. She threw Vincent a worried glance, but he was preoccupied with getting down from the burning building safely. Indeed, she could feel the intense heat, her eyes watering from the smoke pouring through the open wound in the building's roof.

Vincent would be fine---he always was.

Turning her attention back to their current predicament, she looked around, searching for some way down. Soon she found a relatively high pile of crates by the building, motioning to it at Vincent. He nodded, though he grimaced after. His human hand was firmly holding his left shoulder, where the bullet had hit. Yuffie held back a grimace at the sight of the amount of blood leaking from the wound.

They scrambled down with relative ease, considering their conditions. Hobbling away, out into the night, the only sign of their past presence was the red glow leaking into the black-dipped sky, red as blood.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Hello again! Glad I finally finished the chapter. It's a nit longer---over ten pages, just over five thousand words. Hope you like it. I still think it's very rough. I'm trying to just churn out the chapters, though I'd like to take some more time on the future ones. Not entirely happy with it. I've discovered that my writing style is very…brisk for most of this chapter anyways. There are a lot of action sequences, which is both fun, as well as tiring to do. They're usually short and to the point anyways, in the way of literation.

But I'm rambling now! Hope you liked it! Please, please review! Tell me what you think, what you EVERLAST actually is (even though I haven't given a lot of hints yet ;P), or what you think I need to work on. I'm writing this because I a) love FFVII b)Yuffintine but also c) because I really need to work on my writing. :D

Toodles!

Cheesynoodle xox

∞


	3. Chapter 3

_Yuffie held back a grimace at the sight of the amount of blood leaking from the wound._

_They scrambled down with relative ease, considering their conditions. Hobbling away, out into the night, the only sign of their past presence was the red glow leaking into the black-dipped sky, red as blood._

∞ **EVERLAST**

**Chapter Three.**

"Sooo… you're going to walk off into oblivion, when you don't even know where we are?" ---Yuffie Kisaragi

What to do, What to do, What to do? Yuffie chanted mentally as she hobbled down the sidewalk. She was already getting weaker due to the girl on her back and the wound in her stomach was still stinging, while Vincent was still hobbling along, blood actually dripping onto the sidewalk. She knew it had only been a few minutes at best after their escape, but Vincent's body should have been able to clot the wound at least a little, right? Vincent was like a super man, right?

But as she glanced over at him, she wasn't so sure. His face was paler than ever (if that was possible), he was sweating (which was _not_ something Vincent did), and his eyes looked feverish, a dull, almost dreamy look in them. And that wasn't counting the blood _still_ running down his body. They needed to find a place to stay, fast.

"Hey Vince!" He looked over at her, eyes still sagging, a dead look on his face. It was weird---he seemed so… out of control, somehow. She had a Restore materia, though it wasn't at a high-level yet, but he shouldn't need it, should he? Besides, she was running low on magic power. "We're going to find a hotel to stay at, kay? It should only be a bit father…" She spoke with a clear, concise voice. Somebody needed to be sane around here.

"No…" It was faint and rusty, causing her to look around at him in surprise.

"No? Why not? We need a place to stay and rest. Plus we have the stupid girl."

He grimaced, in either pain or frustration she didn't know. It was an odd look on him, the blatant exposure of feeling.

He was quiet for a moment before responding, "Dump the girl at a hotel… then go to the Ranch… north of here…"

"Ranch? A Chocobo Ranch? You mean you want to travel out through monster-infested fields in the dark, while we're both wounded and tired? You're insane!" She exclaimed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I'm… wanted…by bounty hunters…" He struggled to gasp out.

Her eyes widened a fraction more, "You're wanted by bounty hunters? Why didn't you tell me, you ass-hole? God… we're f#$ed…" he didn't say anything, only looking resolutely ahead. She sighed. Of all times to be stubborn. "Fine, but we need to wake up the girl, and then see if we can catch a truck or something out to the farm. Once we dump the girl I'll give you a Hi-Potion."

They soon reached the hotel, a little thing along the side of the road with a gaudy flashing sign. Yuffie paid the man at the desk, practically screaming at him until he agreed to carry the girl up to her room. Hopefully when she woke up she'd be smart enough to head home before somebody else could do something to her. Yuffie looked over at the gunman, who had sunken into a nearby chair. She'd given him a Hi-Potion a few minutes before as well as herself, but he still didn't look too good. The blood wasn't gushing out, but he was still in that dreamy stupor. Walking over to him, she bent down a bit, worried eyes trying to reach his own. "Vincent? I talked to the man over there. He said a man around here usually takes some stuff to Chocobo Billy every few days. The guy at the desk called him, and he said he could take us, okay?"

He didn't say anything, making only a subtle movement with his head. Yuffie took it as a nod. She sat down beside him, a questioning look in her voice. "Hey Vince…you're gonna be okay, right?" Again he didn't respond, instead choosing to lean away a bit, turning his head so that he faced the other way. "Hey, hey Vince!" She exclaimed worried, for some odd reason. A bad feeling was twisting and turning down in the pit of her stomach. She placed a hand softly on his arm, though her fingers only felt the infamous red cloak. She resisted the urge to pull it back. He eventually turned to face her again, an odd look in his eyes. It was almost… pleading, Yuffie thought. She frowned, but quickly said, "You'll be alright Vince. You always are." It wasn't just said for her, but for him, as well.

The man arrived soon after, the noisy rumble of an old, rusted truck announcing his arrival. Yuffie looked up, seeing a man with wispy brown hair, his wide jaw darkened with stubble, clothes patched in various places. And yet blue eyes shone out, a youthful sparkle still in them.

"You the guys who want to go ter the farm?" He asked gruffly. Absently, Yuffie was reminded fondly of Cid. Yuffie nodded, trying to help Vincent to his feet. Seemed like he didn't want to move. "Alright… the truck's jus' outside." He eyed Vincent warily, but wisely decided not to ask.

The ride was long and full of bumps. The man owned a pick-up truck, so both of them had tumbled into the back, nestled amongst odd sacks and hard-edged toolboxes. Needless to say, it wasn't a very comfortable ride, and while Yuffie tried to prevent Vincent from being jostled too much by letting him rest in her lap, her back was getting killed from the shifting boxes. Vincent still didn't look any better. She'd force-fed him a few more potions, but his condition hadn't changed in the last hour. She didn't get it---he should have been fine by now. Why wasn't he healing? She called up Reeve on her out-dated PHS, fumbling for the correct numbers, about half-an-hour ago. Over the loud noise of the truck she'd told him what happened, and he'd assured her he'd be sending a chopper to pick them up at the Chocobo farm. She sighed and tried to look in front of the truck, but could only see through the inside of the car (where she could faintly hear jazzy tunes coming from---the man was more alike to Cid than she thought), and out through the wind-shield, but the glass was so scratched and dirty she couldn't see anything other that a few blurred lines of head-lights on the road.

The weather was dark and stormy on the horizon still, though one could only tell by the occasional flash of distant lightning. Darkness had eagerly plunged in on them, casting them in black. Stars shone overhead, but Yuffie wasn't in the mood to look at them; now they seemed weak and hopeless against the vivid black of the night sky. Pitiful in their attempts to poke through. Instead she turned down to the gunman, whom either fallen asleep, or just drifted into unconsciousness at some time. She couldn't make out his face at all, only the edge of his nose, maybe a glint on his hair if she squinted hard enough. Even in his weakened state, and in such pure, undiluted darkness she dare not touch him.

They drove for a couple of hours, though Yuffie had no idea of the time (her PHS screen didn't even light up), nor where they were. She was only dimly aware of the rush of cold wind against her, the sound and movement of the truck (which had caused a subtle uncomfortable feeling in her stomach), and the warmth of Vincent against her, of which she was terribly conscious of. It was because of this, that she didn't notice it at first. A faint… _buzzing_ to the ears. Rustling over and over and over, seeping in through. It was a mere second before one hit her on the cheek that she finally heard it.

"Ow!" She exclaimed as it whipped against her cheek, a hand reaching up to touch the spot. Her first reaction was that it had been a silly rock, thrown up by a front tire. But her eyes widened as she felt the ghost of wings against her skin, the poke of something moving along her skin, and then it disappeared. She shivered, disgusted; she was pretty sure that hadn't been a rock. But it had felt huge, she thought to herself, as big as her hand.

And then she finally heard it. The buzzing, coming closer and closer, louder and louder, growing until it was all she could hear and think. Distantly, she saw the faint light of a lightning bolt for the briefest moment, before a black cloud blotted it out from her vision. And in mere seconds, they were upon them.

The things hit them full on, pelting her and the truck. She thought she could hear _pings_ as they whacked into the metal siding. And it took not but one easy thought to determine what they were: _locusts_.

She remembered hearing about the nasty bug swarms before, down south, or in the desert plains that lay beneath the Golden Saucer. She remembered her shout of "grossness!" when she had heard. But this, this was _disgusting. Revolting, _even. They were _everywhere_, all around her. She couldn't get away. At first she'd swung her arms around, but it was impossible---it just made her touch more of those things. Mentally she was screaming, but she daren't open her mouth in the fright that one might end up in it. Eyes shut, she covered her own face and Vincent with her arms, shielding themselves. She could still feel them---against her back, crawling through her hair, over her bare arms. It was a nightmare, horrible, too real. It felt like it would never stop. She focused on Vincent's warm breath against her face, trying to ignore one that _had just flown into her ear!_ And instead concentrated on his shallow breathing, face practically touching his, her cheek on his. To hell with his untouchable-ness, she thought. Gigantic bugs were pitting them, after all!

She was flung to the side by a turn in the truck's driving, making her bang her head into the side of a crate. Oh shit, she thought, the Cid-clone was losing control of the wheel. He probably couldn't see the road because of these damn things. They were going to---

She felt herself tipping, making her desperately grab Vincent's limp form, before she was thrown as the truck it swerved off the rough road and down a hill. It was chaos---the other things in the truck had been thrown out too, and were currently rolling down the hill with them. Rocky ground was cutting and jabbing her hard enough to break bones and leave plenty of bruises. Vincent wasn't with her anymore, though that might've been a good thing---they'd end up hurting each other anyways. And whether she realized it or not, at some point she sunk into a different kind of darkness.

∞

She dreamed, while she slept. Of beautiful Wutainian mountains, reaching always for the sky. Of skies so red she thought it was blood dripping from the it, so clear and pure that she wondered if the stars that were about to come would pierce it. Of soft dirt beneath bare feet, grasses both soft and sharp against her legs, pounded down by her running. Always running. Joy screaming through her, heart pounding as she ran, whether to or from, she didn't know or care; she was just running.

She dreamt of her mother's warm touch, of her father's rough voice. Warm breezes in the spring, making the weak petals of the cherry blossoms fall into the ponds outside, so delicately that Yuffie imagined she couldn't see the ripples made. Summer came crashing, unveiling the sun that more down on her, swept through the air, undaunted by wind. She imagined the sun breaking, slopping down in a heap at her feet from the blue, blue sky. Darkening clouds blustering through, clouding the blue ceiling above, though she knew they would eventually pass and leave only a trace of graying sky. Almost like the world, the planet, was aging, graying and fringing. Tearing at the seams, the bright green leaves of summer bleached and dyed by the sun's remains into brilliant oranges and reds, browns.

She dreamt that she was sobbing, tears running down her face, hot and warm and comforting, until winter's wind blew. Turn her tears cold, her face hard, ground unyielding beneath her feet. And now, she ran in earnest, from the dying planet, back to spring, oh so warm spring, where everything was alive and fresh and new. Not here. No, here was death, dying, all around her, behind her and in front of her.

So she stopped.

Well, there really isn't any use in running anymore, is there? She asked herself. Feet planted on the ground, she stood and looked. She looked at what was around her, and yet, she saw nothing. The grass was gone by now, leaving cracked and dry earth beneath her. It was a wasteland, she thought. Nothing, nothing at all, would, could, and did live here. Nothing ever would.

She wished for some form of life, and though a few flowers here and there would have been nice, she wished for another kind of sign. An old sign, to convince her that she knew where she was. She was asking for snow. The sign that the planet was still alive, even in its cold state. Falling softly, even softer than the cherry petals, onto and into the ground, feeding the planet slowly, silently, with life.

She now realized that she wasn't, at least not anymore, in winter. This place hadn't a dream of life, a hope. It was dead. Snow didn't want to come, it wouldn't. This place wasn't a place for winter, and so it wasn't a place for snow.

Yuffie huffed, kicking at the dirt beneath her feet, which had suddenly become encased in her familiar yellow sneakers. What was she supposed to do now? This place was creeping her out, and she was friggin' cold! Not only that, but she was getting pretty lonely, out there all by herself. Now she was wishing she hadn't ran, that she had stayed wherever she had been. Anything could be better than this, she thought. Though she could recall several instances where she had thought those very same words.

She didn't know how long she sat there. Time didn't matter, for nothing changed. The landscape stayed still, and she herself barely moved at all. She couldn't remember sitting down, but here she was, legs crossed, her butt slowly going numb. The fast-moving strands of thought in her mind had slowed, leaving in faint whispers before her mind was blank.

Later she would consider this state as comatose, or like Godo and the others had tried to teach her, a very deep form of meditation. Or maybe that was just what happened to her when she was extremely bored. She could remember a time when, as a child, she had ran outside, in the early-morning mist and seen the elders of the village, even that batty old coot Azuma, standing in the courtyard of the pagoda's, doing yoga. They started slowly, moving with practiced ease and grace in fluid motions. Slowly at first, making the movements large and sloth, almost like their wrinkled and drooping bodies were oh-so heavy. Like they could barely manage to lift their arms.

Then the pace quickened, the movements becoming quick and smooth, faster and faster. Their bodies had become light and flighty, like they would soon lift off the ground. The little Yuffie had watched, oddly captivated by the sight of all these _old_ people moving in such ways, that she had stood on the porch, eyes drinking in the sight. Completely silent and unmoving.

And now, sitting in the middle of the barren wasteland, she did nothing, drinking in all that was around her again, several very long years later. She was sweeping out from her body, letting the cold air brush past her, quick and light, out over the cracked mud ground, careful not to snag on any of the jagged rocks that sprouted from the ground. She was so lost, and yet she hadn't moved an inch from her spot.

And then she hit something, something very real, and very human. She snapped back to her senses, but stayed where she was. Presently, she heard the crunching of mud beneath feet, the swish of fabric. Red was in her vision, as well as black and ghostly white. All familiar colours.

Neither said anything, though Yuffie desperately wanted to. She always felt this way around Vincent---always needed to break the silence around him. She'd always felt that his silence was just to muffle something else, keep something else silent. But maybe that was just the way he was. Vincent Valentine was silent and distant, unreachable, yet untouchable. She'd once said he "Was way too _beyond_" them. And yet deep down, perhaps she really didn't believe that after all. Maybe she'd actually always wanted to crack him open bit by bit. But his stone walls that he'd built around him had always stayed strong, not to be broken by a tiny ninja-girl.

She knew what was beyond those walls. She figured everybody knew---such a big, deep-dark secret that had been extremely well kept had to be leaked at some point. She didn't know when---maybe she had learned it from Tifa and Aeris' gossip at nights. Tifa had always been quite close to him, something Yuffie had always been jealous for. But that didn't matter; and neither did his so-called 'secrets'.

Vincent took a seat, surprising her for some reason; he'd always been higher up, looking down his nose at her. It was odd being (almost) eye to eye with him. He looked unfamiliar to her, from the new perspective.

"Hello, Yuffie."

Always that gritty, unused sound that caught the start of his words.

"Hey, Vince. How are ya?" A shred of worry came over her; something had happened to them, hadn't it? Something bad…

He paused, seeming to judge her in some way. "I'm fine, Yuffie. Yourself?"

She made a face, "Stuck here. Bit cold, butt's probably popped off by now, but other than that, I'm okay." She stopped, trying to find something to say. It seemed she was always doing this, the one to keep their 'conversations' afloat. But again, he surprised her:

"Why are you here, Yuffie?"

He was looking at her funny, she noticed. "I don't know." She stopped, thinking. "This isn't really real, is it?" It was more of a statement, directed to herself more than him, but he answered anyways.

"No, it's not. That's why I wondered why you would choose to come here, more than, say, a beach in Costa De Sol."

His eyes were almost, _amused, _she decided. Very, very weird. Valentines did not act like this.

"I told you I don't know." She said in all seriousness. Funny, the one time Vinnie was playful, she had to be the serious one. "And what do you mean, 'to choose to come here'? I didn't choose to come here!" She added.

"But you did," His eyes were still laughing at her, though not literally. That would be weird. "This isn't reality. This is somewhere in _you_. You wanted to be here, whether conscious or not."

She snorted, "That doesn't make any sense. Why would I want to be here? I don't even know where I am!" She was frowning now.

The gunner's eyebrows rose, from what she could see under the bandana. "Well, that's odd, isn't it?"

They were silent for a while, neither commenting on it. Yuffie was getting more and more suspicious by the minute, for although he'd quieted now, he was still regarding her with the same look. Like he knew something she didn't. It was annoying her to no end. It was just, so utterly, _un_-Vincent like.

"So why are you here, then? You must have chosen to be here too, right? If you're real. You are real, aren't you?"

"I'm don't know." He said, almost mocking, in a way.

She frowned more deeply, annoyed. "Well that's stupid." She looked like she was going to continue, but stopped. If he didn't know, she wasn't going to figure it out anytime soon. "Let's say you _are_ real." She continued, "And that you _chose_ to come here. Was it conscious for you, then? Do you know _where_ we are?" she sat back, arms crossed, quite smug.

At this he seemed to sober-up. Eyebrows were drawn down, eyes darkening. "No, I did not exactly _choose_ to come here; I was sent. And again, no, I do not know exactly where we are right now, though I could guess."

She waited for him to continue, but he did not. Instead, he rose, towering above her once again, and started off away from her. She scrambled to her feet, "Hey, wait! Where're ya goin'?"

As per usual, he didn't stop, making her strain to hear his reply, "Away."

She huffed in annoyance, but jogged after him, walking quickly to match his long strides. "Sooo… you're going to walk off into oblivion, when you don't even know where we are?" She rubbed at her arms. Once she was moving a harder chill seemed to bite at her, like it was chasing her. She was just getting paranoid, she told herself. And yet she still hurried to keep up to the moving gunman.

He was walking…weird, she realized. He was hunched over more. Soon he brought his hand up to his shoulder, clutching at it. Something really bad had happened, she thought. She was just about to ask when he suddenly said, "No." He paused, stopping. "I'm not going to."

She stopped as well, staring at him. Something was moving down his cloak. Red, red rivulets of blood. His shoulder… she stared in some type of horrible wonder as the cloak was torn at by invisible hands, the black cloth underneath blown off to expose blackened skin that was hurriedly being covered by bright blood. "Oh my god, your shoulder, when did that happen…" She trailed off, suddenly remembering the recent events. The kidnappers, the Cid-clone, the truck ride, Vincent unconscious, the swarm.

She stared at him. How could she have forgotten? Why was she here when she needed to help him? Was this… was she here because she was currently unconscious? "I…I need to get back." He winced, another weird expression on his face. He was looking at her, again, judging her. But instead of saying anything, he broke eye contact. Choosing instead to look up, straight up into the grey sky.

She copied him, squinting to see anything through the murky clouds. She stared for a few seconds, before looking back at him, startled once again to find him looking at her. He seemed a bit more agitated. She frowned, "Did you see something?"

He shook his head wordlessly, but continued to look at her. After a while, he spoke, "Next time, I'll tell you more." He seemed to smile, though in a grim way, adding, "Maybe he'll be able to tell you himself."

She frowned again, "What are you talking about?" she asked, but he didn't answer. "Do you know how to get back, then?" Again, no response.

And then she realized she could feel something. The eerie feeling from the cold and paranoia was dulling. In fact, all her senses were dulling. She was slowly going numb, first at her toes, then her feet and legs, then presently her fingers. She tried to move her fingers to pinch herself, but she couldn't. Her body was getting heavier and heavier. She could feel her strength crumbling---an unfamiliar feeling to her. Looking back up at him, she met his steady gaze, trying to find some words to say, or at least trying to say anything at all. But her mouth wouldn't work.

Everything was slowing down, fading, in all aspects: sights and sounds, she couldn't even hear her own breathing, and Vincent was fading; her senses were dull, almost gone. And presently she was falling; back, quickly, so that soon Vincent and his stare were gone, replaced by only grey. Monochromatic. Always the same. She never hit the ground, and instead she was just falling. Like how she had been running, just running, although this time there was no joy, not even fear. There was nothing.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Yay! Another chapter! Sorry for the wait--- I was busy, as well as lazy. If you get another chapter this week it'll either be on Firday or Saturday. I'm going to the cottage on Saturday till Tuesday. So it'll probably be next Wednesday, or Thursday.

I'm not particularly pleased with this. I had to keep pushing it the entire way. The unreality part was weird, I know P but I wanted to develop character, and I'm trying to stick to my chapter plans. :B

Sorry for the erratic pacing ' but this is my first fanfic. Deal with it.

And thanks for all the reviews and stuff---really appreciate it:D


	4. Chapter 4

_Everything was slowing down, fading, in all aspects: sights and sounds, she couldn't even hear her own breathing, and Vincent was fading; her senses were dull, almost gone. And presently she was falling; back, quickly, so that soon Vincent and his stare were gone, replaced by only grey. Monochromatic. Always the same. She never hit the ground, and instead she was just falling. Like how she had been running, just running, although this time there was no joy, not even fear. There was nothing._

∞ **EVERLAST**

**Chapter Four.**

"We don't have a f#$ing washing machine. What d'ya need it for? Turnin' inta Valentine's house wife?" ---Cid Highwind

Yuffie woke in several steps. First to come to was her nose, assaulted by an odd, musty smell, as well as another that had a metallic-ness to it. She could barely smell a smoky-ness laid over everything, and hung in the air. Secondly, her hearing snapped back into place. There was a distinct rumble about her, along with a few thumps that ran along every few minutes above her head. Eventually she started feeling a rumble, vibration around and through her body. And very suddenly she was aware that she was moving.

"Shit!" Out came her voice, rusting and cracking from disuse and dehydration. Her eyes snapped open, though not as quickly as per norm, and she flailed wildly as her eyes focused and sharpened so she could finally confirm where, exactly, she was.

But not before she blew some chunks.

Twisting over onto her side, her flailing hands finally found the rim of a red bucket kindly placed by her bedside. After a few minutes of some very familiar, though entirely unwelcome heaving, she finally sat back up, eyes closed, leaning against the cold, metal wall her bed was placed against.

It was obvious---she was on the _Highwind_. Only one airship could make her puke this badly. Indeed, her throat was scorched from the acid, and her mouth tasted worse than Barrett's morning breath. Not that she would know. But you could guess it was that bad judging from the smell alone.

After spending a few minutes calming her erratic breathing, she opened her eyes again, this time taking the chance to gaze at her surroundings with an ironic little smile flitting about her mouth, though never coming to a full. Her eyes quickly found their way to the most interesting thing in the room. For, in the midst of all the bare metal walls and pale blue blanket and sheets, red stood out quite a bit.

Vincent old tattered cloak was there, piled in a heap amid the askew blankets. He wouldn't have liked that, Yuffie thought to herself. He'd always had that odd obsession with it. Even though there were countless rips and bullet holes in it, he always hung it up on a hanger, or draped it over a chair. That had been deduced from the few times she'd seen it off him, which, needless to say, weren't many. He was always wearing it, that stroke of brilliant red dripping down to barely touch the ground. How he could fight with it, she didn't understand, but it was always on him. A part of him. The few times she had seen him without it, he'd always seemed bare, naked without it.

Not literally of course, though that would have been welcome as well.

Maybe it was the fact that you could actually see him---the whole him, without the damn high collar covering half his face, or just the abnormal absence of that huge block of red. She just couldn't quite put a finger on it. Maybe it was because one of his actual, physical, walls that kept them all out was gone.

Seeing it here, in a pile, buckles undone, just wasn't right. So she took the time to wobble over on unsteady legs, and fold it up, into a nice, flat square. Of course, the _Highwind_ chose this time to buck considerably hard in some turbulence. Causing her to up-chuck all over it.

She quickly hurried over to the bucket, but the damage was done. "Aw, man!" She whined. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" The cloak was a mess. Even though it she hadn't eaten for who-knows-how-long and had already puked once, there was still who-knows-what on it. Picking up her lovely red bucket, she plopped it down by the other bed, taking out on of her smaller kunai in a pocket of her shorts. She then carefully took the cloak in one hand, making sure not to touch the puke, and proceeded to scrape off the puke into the bucket.

Her stomach lurched again at the sight, but she managed to hold it in. "Urgh, that's _disgusting_." She said, making a face. Once she had finished, she dropped the kunai onto the cloak and grabbed the bucket in the other hand, holding the cloak waiter-style. Turning to the door to her left, she juggled for a bit before setting down the bucket and turning the doorknob. She'd better be careful with her container of chunks; didn't want them flying everywhere.

She entered a small hallway, though compared to the other's it would have been large. The wall her door was on was claimed by a few others, while along the other side portholes looked through. Yuffie immediately averted her eyes. The view she knew was probably gorgeous, but she didn't want to spur on her sickness.

She came to the end of the hall, and then turned right through a doorway and up a tight spiral staircase. Needless to say, this didn't make her stomach's conditions any better.

"God Vinnie, you better appreciate this." She muttered darkly, glaring at the odd looks she was being given by the few crew members she encountered, making them quickly rush off. This was getting her nowhere, she thought as she huffed angrily. She didn't know where they kept their washing machines! And she refused to ask those stupid-heads where they were.

So she made her way through a few hallways, still refusing to look out any windows she encountered, and eventually came to a closed door. Again setting down her precious bucket, she heaved it open, almost falling over when it finally opened. Looking inside, she was met with quite a few familiar stares.

"Geez kid, what the f$ are ya tryin' to do? Break down my f#$ing door?"

Yuffie grumbled a bit, but stopped, eyes widening as she saw exactly _who_ was in the large room. "Tifa? Spike? Red XIII? What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously. The brunette and blonde had previously been standing by Cid, the large cat closer to window. Upon seeing Yuffie, though, the brunette had barreled through the few crewmembers standing and sitting near the dashboard, rushing up to hug Yuffie. Cloud stayed with Cid, while Red trotted up to Yuffie, though wisely staying away from the blabbering Tifa, who was still squeezing Yuffie as hard as possible.

"Alright, Boobs! Lemme breath!" Yuffie gasped. Tifa consented, though she still held the smaller girl by the shoulders, at arm-length.

"I'm so glad to see you! Geez, where have you been? You're missing everything! You even slept for a day! But guess what? I some great news to tell for you! And what's in the bucket? …Oh." Upon seeing the red cape she also exclaimed, "Why do you have Vincent's cloak? I thought he was still being healed…what did happen? Cid was called by Reeve to pick you guys up cus they didn't have any spare airlifts. Cloud and me were in Rocket Town at the time, visiting him and Shera. We thought we'd come along and see you guys. But you were out when we found you, along with tons of locusts around you. And Vincent was really badly hurt." She eyed Yuffie quizzically, though the girl could still tell the woman was worried.

Yuffie's eyes widened for a moment, "He's okay, right? He's not too bad right? He healed?" It was odd asking these questions about Vincent. They rolled right of her tongue, like many a time before, but that had always been for somebody else. Not Vincent.

Tifa's eyes were somber as she answered, "He's pretty bad. Worse than ever. The ship's medic's dealing with him right now, but it just seems like he's getting worse. They were trying to get the bullet out, but it seems his immune system is making it difficult…"

She glanced over at the others, who were either not looking at her, or gazing at her with the same look Tifa's eyes held. "Well, didn't you guys try materia? I couldn't, but don't you guys have a Restore?"

Tifa shook her head, "We tried. In fact, it was the first thing we tried. But it's weird---it just made it worse. We don't get it… but it did. He started coughing up blood…" She trialed off. Judging from the look Yuffie had now, it wasn't a good idea to get too descriptive.

Yuffie was quiet for a few minutes, making the awkward silence even worse. Then eventually, "But will he be okay?"

Cloud answered this time, walking up a bit, "We're not sure. He has it pretty bad. But we're all hoping."

Yuffie's face was blank for a moment before it scowled, twisting. "Pity-party doesn't suit you, Cloud." And she said this with total seriousness, surprising Cloud and everyone else. "And Cid, where's your washing machine?"

Cid eyed her with disbelief, before his surprise turned to a mocking smirk, "We don't have a f#$ing washing machine." He snorted, "What d'ya need it for? Turning in'ta Valentine's house wife?"

Yuffie scowled, fighting down a blush. "So what does that make Shera? Bet she'll be happy to hear what your answer is."

Again Cid was surprised, though this time he hid it behind a scowl. Somehow grinding his teeth without harming his precious cigarette. He was silent, before, "Go down ta hall then left, an' then down two doors on yer left."

Yuffie grinned, though something was missing. "Thought so." Then turning on her heel, grabbed her items and walked out, kicking the door shut behind her.

The rest of the AVALANCHE members were silent for a moment, Cloud walking up to Tifa. Around them the crewmembers were still working, but their moments were more careful and smaller, voices shushed. Even they knew something was wrong.

"You think she'll be okay?" It was Tifa who asked this, grabbing Cloud's hand tightly. She looked at him, not looking at their brilliant blue colour and glow, like so many times before, but at what was held inside them.

"I don't know."

Truth.

She nodded; she trusted him. And she could've probably seen it herself. But there was something wrong with it. A flaw in the equation. Why was Yuffie so beat up about it? Tifa could understand her worry---she was worried too---but there was something else there. She thought about it a bit more, pondering the subject, stroking Cloud's hand unknowingly.

Cloud blushed, "Er, Tifa…" She looked up, letting herself be dazzled a bit by his eyes.

"Hmm? Why are you blushing?" She said, still holding his larger hand in both on hers. She suddenly realized what the problem was and rolled her eyes, smiling, but released his hand.

Only to grab his arm.

Cid chuckled as Cloud blushed again, though this time he didn't say anything. "Best be learnin' ta live with it." Cloud and Tifa both smiled at this, looking at the glittering ring on Tifa's elegant finger.

"Yuffie will be alright, Tifa." Red suddenly spoke up, bringing them back to the worrisome topic. "She and Vincent have a…different type of relationship. But they will straighten the knot out in the end, as long as we do not tamper, and knot it further." Nobody commented on the odd words, nor questioned what exactly he meant. That was just Red for you. Though Tifa thought she had a pretty good idea, exactly what he meant.

∞

Yuffie had found the "washing machine" without difficulty, though a few mishaps with balance and holding a bucket of chunks were only a small issue. The "washing machine" had ended up to be a large basin, or a very large, square sink, with legs just like a table or chair, and a tap hovering above.

As gross as the job had been, she'd been relatively quickly, though thorough as well. Yuffie bet he had a pretty good nose what with all those demons inside hid head and pimped-body. And he probably was especially keen on picking up puke-smell. So she had washed it with some soapy stuff that smelled like lemons and oranges.

Unfortunately, when it dried she could see a very large, pinkish spot where it had been used. Causing her to have a fit of swearing, and spend the rest of her day tracking down a bottle of red dye. When she had finally found one (why a member of the crew had a bottle she didn't know) she had proceeded to pour strenuous amounts onto it, and then let it sit.

So by the time it was finally back to normal (excluding the tiny, tiny pink spot by the buckle), she had spent her entire day, and, amazingly, had not blown chunks more than five times or filled her bucket. She stopped by the mess hall for some dinner with everyone else, chatting about old and new times, over stew, peas, and porridge. An odd combination, but hey, weren't exactly sure the cook was sane.

Now Yuffie was waking briskly down the halls with the cloak, surprising, what with her motion sickness. But then again, she had just found out that the gunslinger been released from the doctor's care, and was currently resting in the room Yuffie had been in prior. Yuffie had nearly screamed from joy---he was okay! Well, not exactly okay, but he was still alive. They had decided to take him to the nearest hospital to get serious treatment. Apparently the problem was that his body had kept on healing over at a ridiculous rate, but not getting rid of the bullet, which was still doing damage, even without it moving. The skin had had an infection, and the regrowth of cells meant that those new cells were becoming infected, too. The doctor had been lucky enough to stop the infection, but the bullet was still there. Not only that, but the bullet had hit something vital. But was holding it "in place". Which was just weird and wrong, since it was his _shoulder_. Yuffie was trying not to let loose her imagination on that, but wasn't doing a great job on that.

The door came up quickly, surprising her out of her ponderings and wonderings, so that she paused for a moment, almost hesitating, before deciding to "screw it" and opened it anyways.

She walked in, again surprised. She had been expecting…something. At least a little something to happen. But nothing did. She quickly saw that he was lying down, on the cot beside hers, chest barely moving. Sheets were flat against him, still in the position someone had pull them in while moving him. It was evidence that he hadn't moved at all.

She walked in quietly, afraid to disturb the stale silence. The ship's engine still rumbled through the floor and her feet, up her legs to her chest, into her heart, which was pumping a little too fast for her liking. God, it's just Vincent, she thought to herself. What was with her? Daring to step forward a little more, a little closer, she looked down at him.

He was asleep, obviously, eyes closed, face neither peaceful nor relaxed, but tight. As if in pain, or a bad dream.

The little light cast by the moon outside was filtered in through the tiny porthole, letting only a soft blanket fall on the hard lines on his face. Yuffie felt sad and alone all of a sudden, standing there like a little lost child, in the moonlight.

She supposed she should have been the one to have been shot. After all, it was her who had been the genius to crash through the roof. She was the one who kept on making mistakes. The problem was that she knew it wasn't precisely _her_ fault that Vincent got shot. And this both angered her and bothered her. She _wanted_ to be the one who had taken the bullet. Maybe then she wouldn't be feeling the way she did right now.

And what exactly was she feeling right now? She was a mess of emotions, a pool constantly pushing and pulling, crashing against the sides of her head. Whenever she tried to name them, anger, annoyance, sadness, it only got worse. And there were some she just couldn't put a name on.

Vincent suddenly moved, catching her by surprise. He had turned his head her way, making his sloppy bangs fall onto his face, which had made him twitch his nose. Which had made her burst into silent laughter for five minutes, before reaching over to brush it away from his still twitching nose. But her hand froze on contact with skin. Her fingers touching the edge of his nose and cheek. Which technically, isn't the most romantic spot, but that honestly didn't really matter to her then. His skin was smooth, and warm to the touch, probably too warm for her liking. It slightly startled her; she had always thought him cold and hard. Ivory white skin against dark, sharp features. But here she was now, her warm hand against his skin.

Again he suddenly moved, frowning just the tiniest bit, and then relaxing, leaning into her hand, the tauntness of his expression gone. Instead it was finally peaceful and calm, at ease. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen his face like this. Maybe she'd never seen it like this. Maybe she never would see it again. So she knelt down on her knees, resting her arms and chin on the bed frame, hand still on his face, now cupping his sharp cheek.

She'd always known he was handsome. When'd they'd first met, down in that creepy basement, she'd stared openly for at least a minute. Sharp cheekbones, strong chin and silhouette of his nose, gleaming garnet eyes, unruly _black_ hair (she couldn't call it dark brown like her own---it was just _black_, plain and simple), lean, wiry figure. It'd been 'crush-at-first-sight', until she'd had to listen to him ramble on about how they shouldn't be there, etc. That'd quickly turned to a pile of mush as she labeled him 'rotten-angst-muffin' in her mind. After that she'd never really looked, or studied him in that way again. Not to say she hadn't had thoughts about him, but that only served to make it even harder to look at him and not blush. In general, he was the type of person who could instantly know you were staring, even if you didn't realize it. Yuffie had been caught in the act quite a few times herself.

But now, in the subtle moonlight, she finally took the chance to look at him, _truly_ look at him. He was just like she remembered him that day, only a few years ago. And for some reason, she felt sad for him. He hadn't changed in the least. He hadn't grown older, that was for sure. He had said that he never would. Always stuck at age twenty-seven, older than twenty-five, younger than thirty. She idly wondered if he himself felt he had grown in any way. Did he even want to? But another thought took over quickly: What would happen to him as the rest of the team grew, aged, wizened into old coots. What would he do? Would he run away, give up their friendships in dismay, or stay by them as they withered off, sunk into a pile of dust?

For the next good chunk of an hour she sat there, trying to guess what was going on inside the man in front of her, what his dreams and wishes were, if he had any at all. She already knew what his nightmares were.

∞

Vincent sat in the same wasteland he and Yuffie had been in, seemingly hours before. He'd pushed her out, pushed her existence back into the real world, conscious state. But he hadn't been ready to go himself. For the past hours he watched, surveying his surroundings, pushing away the entity that was always pulling, pulling at his own soul like it was a lifeline, pulling itself towards him. He'd watched his own shoulder in painful disgust as the flesh rotted and oozed, then healed over, a sickish purple colour, until he suddenly felt like he was rolling down a very rocky slope, punching yellow bruises into his arms and legs and torso. And then a little while later he watched as someone cut through his skin, moving the contents underneath around, probably trying to find the bullet. Now he only felt a numbing ache through his entire body, along with periodic shoots of pain as that someone touched something with the nerves still active.

And always that pulling, that nearly physical pull that made him want to retch. The thing was pulling itself closer and closer. Vincent could feel the air around him growing colder and thinner. It chaffed his nose and mouth as he breathed it in, stung his face and lips, made his eyes water.

But Vincent pushed back, even when the sudden bursts of pain became too frequent and harsh and he was barely aware of the pulling, he forced the thing back. He'd been able to keep it away while Yuffie had ran, faster than ever. Finding the joy in simply running, faster and faster. But then he started feeling his body, feeling the pain of both physical and mental scars. And then after he'd finally confronted her, she'd started to remember what had happened, sending his body through the entire crash-course again.

Now he was numb, barely able to feel the colder than ever air, the pulling. He'd stopped pushing back.

He could hear it now, the heavy breathing. The precise steps, barely making a sound on the hardened ground. He figured the numbness he was currently experiencing wasn't all because of the past pain; he'd probably gotten frostbite in several areas of his body. He could tell that there was frost on his eyelashes and bloodied hair, and if he had looked in the mirror he would have seen that his lips were an unhealthy purple, cheeks bluing.

And then suddenly it was there, right in front of him, barely inches away from his slumped form.

Chaos looked at him with large, quizzical yellow eyes. Vincent stared back, frozen with both cold and fear. It was ridiculous, he reasoned, and yet every time he saw Chaos for himself he felt the rush of fear crash over him. He felt quite sorry for his comrades who probably saw the thing more than him.

"_I am not a thing."_ It spoke, voice rough and guttural, although its mouth didn't move. It had been grinning a second ago, Vincent realized, but now it was frowning, twisting it's odd features.

It was alike him in certain ways, aspects, Vincent knew. After all it was _his _body Chaos used for every transformation. And yet he could he had to search for these things---the same jaw and facial structure, he presumed. Vincent generally avoided mirrors, but he knew himself; Chaos had the same frame, the same body.

And yet there were many differences, much to Vincent's relief. For one thing, Chaos had no nose---only the two gaping holes in the skull, to which the even paler skin clung to pathetically. Large yellow eyes glared at him, too large, with no pupil nor iris. The leathery body was indeed the same lean one Vincent possessed, though larger, and yet he was sure there were a few more ligaments and bones the made room for the large clawed hands and feet, especially the frayed, stiff wings that scuffed the ground every so often. Twisting and turning horns that stretched back off Chaos' head, trailing all the way down his spine, until reaching the forked tail, replaced Vincent's black hair. And the same, red cloak was now buckled at the waist. All and all, Chaos' towered over him, much larger in both height and mass, although Vincent could not shake the feeling that this was what became of _his_ body. Weak and wretched as it now was, he turned into this monster. He _was_ this monster.

"_Are you done?_" Again came the voice from Chaos', louder than before. Vincent blinked slowly, having trouble pulling the frosted lashes apart, and yet did not answer.

Chaos paused before grinning again, exposing razor sharp teeth, gnashing them unpleasantly. _"You won't answer a lowly demon like me?"_ He mocked, suddenly shooting out a claw to grab Vincent's neck and lift him a few inches, talons slicing through the collar of the red cloak and marking flesh. The demon squeezed, cutting off Vincent's supply of frigid air, making him gasp like a fish. Chaos laughed loudly, then dropped him, making him slump to the ground.

"_I am not a thing,"_ It hissed, _"I am the demon."_

Vincent winced, coughing a few times, finally trying out this voice, "What," out it came, brittle and cracking, "do you want Chaos?"

Chaos did not reply, instead stretching to his full height and looking off into the distance. Vincent shifted uncomfortably. His body still hurt, even more so now with a bleeding neck. He reached up, barely feeling the warmth of the sticky blood dripping down. He pressed what was left of his cape to stem the flow. It seemed like the wounds weren't too deep, but still---he didn't need any more wounds. He didn't know what Chaos would do if he fainted from blood loss.

"_I wouldn't kill you."_ Vincent looked up to see Chaos looking at him again, a curious look in his gleaming eyes. _"You are my host. I only live because you live. You live only because I live."_ The demon cackled,_ "Besides, you cannot die in this place, for it is not of the physical world."_

"I feel pain like I do in the physical world. Why should I not die here, too?" Vincent questioned.

"_I would not let you. But it is impossible anyways. The only thing playing with that fate is your real body, and what happens to it."_ Again there was silence. Neither spoke a word, yet their steady gazes held.

Vincent broke first, startled. He had sworn he felt the soft warmth of flesh against his face. Reaching up to feel for himself, he stopped when he felt it again, now on the side of his face. It was soothing, a steady and strong heat against his frozen cheek. His mind jumped back to memories of Lucrecia cupping his face, the same feeling. Was it her spirit again? Did _his_ mind summon her? If so, why could he not see her?

"_Why do you dwell on her?"_

Vincent looked up yet again to find Chaos staring at him. "Who?" He asked, though quite knowing to whom Chaos was referring to.

The demon frowned, _"Your dead lover."_

It was Vincent's turn to frown now. "I loved her; I still do. But I made unforgettable mistakes, and only because of that she is dead. It is my fault, my sin. I deserve every ounce of pain I relive when I think of her."

"_You only feel pain when you remember her?"_ The demon smirked, toying with him.

Vincent's frown deepened, though he still clung onto the warmth. "What would you know of love?" He struck forward, refusing to take the bait.

Chaos' smirk evaporated, his face uncharacteristically unemotional. _"Much more than a pathetic human would."_

"But you are a demon, are you not?" Vincent pushed on, sick of the game. Chaos always did this, mock him, question him. "You do not love."

Chaos suddenly roared, its face mutating into a longer snout, bone popping and cracking, eyes crazed, fire shooting out. His body shifted, becoming less and less human-like. Vincent was hit by a sudden wave of intense heat, rolling off from Chaos in waves, trying to concentrate on the now cool touch to his face.

"_I HAVE LOVED AND SUFFERED FOR IT FOR SCORES OF EONS, EVERY SECOND. AND YET YOU CONDEMN YOURSELF TO A PITIFUL EXISTENCE OF SLEEP AND RUNNING. RUNNING AWAY FROM IT. YOU SUFFER NONE. ALL YOU DO IS LIVE IN YOUR PAST. YOU SAY 'UNFORGETTABLE'? YOU FORGET YOUR SINS! YOU GO ON LIVING EACH DAY LIKE IT WAS IN THE PAST, WAITING FOR THIS LUCRECIA. _

_MY LOVE IS GONE AND DEAD. AND NEVER WILL I FORGET THAT. YOU SAY YOU SUFFER? I HAVE LIVED LONGER THAN YOU EVEN WILL, WITHOUT HER. _I _AM THE ONE WHO CONDEMS ONESELF TO ETERNITY FOR LIVING EVEN WHILE SHE IS DEAD! YOUR WEAK SOUL WILL EVENTUALLY WHITHER AND DIES. BUT MINE? I WILL _ALWAYS_ LIVE ON; COMDEMNED TO LIVE WITHOUT LOVE. SO DO NOT QUESTION, WHETHER OR NOT I KNOW LOVE!"_

The demon snarled ferociously and howled, the heat coming off of him scorching Vincent as he scrambled back, eyes wide. Chaos whipped around and then shot off, wings flapping.

Vincent was left alone, shaking silently, more afraid than ever. Around the ground was blackened and still sizzling, the only sign the demon had ever been there. The touch was now gone, leaving him as the coldness set in yet again, cold to the bone. And for the first time in quite a while, Vincent felt very much alone in the world.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Chappie four, finally done! Woot! Not quite happy with this---had to change my notes around a bit and try to make things fit, even though in the end I didn't get in all I wanted to.

Just so that you know, this work is fiction for a reason, although that doesn't entirely excuse my horrible make-believe skills. I know very little about medical things, so I have to make that up, as well as Chaos' form. Mostly used a picture I found, but added a few things in myself. So no, it's not canon. Oh yeah, I also apoloize for the supposed Chocobo farm 'north' of Costa Del Sol. I think I even spelled the name of it wrong. But my point is that there isn't one in the game. Hey, you can't blame me---I'm only on disc two of the game, and haven't explored very much. Plus, my sense of the land and continents is really screwed up. I had to print out the map for it.

I'll try and make everything else as canon as possible, but this is basically my first time---im a newbie.

But Yay! Anyways, for a bit of humour, fluff and PMS-ing demons!!! Couldn't resist throwing the Cloti in there. Not much progression story-wise I'm afraid, but oh well. It'll come.

Cya!

Cheesynoodle

PS Thanks for the reviews! Keep em comin'! 3


	5. Chapter 5

_The demon snarled ferociously and howled, the heat coming off of him scorching Vincent as he scrambled back, eyes wide. Chaos whipped around and then shot off, wings flapping. _

_Vincent was left alone, shaking silently, more afraid than ever. Around the ground was blackened and still sizzling, the only sign the demon had ever been there. The touch was now gone, leaving him as the coldness set in yet again, cold to the bone. And for the first time in quite a while, Vincent felt very much alone in the world._

∞**EVERLAST**

Chapter Five.

"I was investigating _him_! He's not like you and I---his body is totally different! Whoever did this was a _genius_!"---Dr. Steven Miller

They arrived at the Golden Saucer relatively quickly, even though they had hit the out-skirts of the large storm that was sweeping across the continents. They docked at the glittering gold structure, before quickly summoning paramedics, and making a beeline for the entertainment unit's hospital. Yuffie herself had never been there, but then again, you couldn't not have one around after seeing the victims the battle arena spit up daily.

Vincent still hadn't woken yet, though it was unsurprising to doctors. They rushed him into the building, Yuffie and Tifa quick on their heels. Soon they were asked to sit down in the waiting room while they took him into surgery and removed the bullet. Both were high strung; Yuffie bouncing in her seat with a worried frown, Tifa practically shredding a magazine in her hands. The room was set with a small television mounted on its beige walls, a few fake potted plants, and a small table with magazines, and a few comfy chairs and couches set up. It was made to be comfortable, and yet she couldn't shake that antsy feeling that made her stomach churn. Maybe it was the sterilized feeling and smell in the air, or the cold temperatures, but try as she might to bury herself into her jacket, she couldn't shake the feeling.

Yuffie had never been one to read, so she spent a few minutes searching for a remote, before turning up empty handed. After asking the lady at the desk nearby, she was blessed with the sacred channel-flipper. It was after midnight, and even though the Saucer was a 24/7 type of place, there was nobody else except for a sleeping older man in a corner.

Leaning back, knees curled up tight to her, she pressed the buttons, flipping through.

"…And then you add those lovely little bits of seasoned pork to the mixture---oh and don't you just love my little chocobo pan-fryer---"

"Wooeee! The was a nice jump on that hover-board, and a good show of by-the-book skills coming up and over that jump by Franz…"

"It seems people will have to watch out Saturday through till Friday for that large storm coming in from the north-west, which isn't losing strength at all; in fact, I'd advise you to board up windows and make sure everything outside is either in, or at least tied down securely. Here's some pictures from Wutai and even Icicle Inn. People here at News Five agree that the storm doesn't seem to be at the rate that it needs to be to dissipate before reaching Edge and Midgar---in fact it will be reaching it's top at that point. And once again, I repeat, we are stating a Serious Thunderstorm Warning…"

Yuffie watched as several pictures of her beloved Wutai flashed across the screen, followed by a few of the Icicle Inn. The storm had dealt a powerful blow--- the frail-looking boats that had always sailed across the shores with power and grace were torn to shreds, cast against the rocky coast and shores. Houses that had no roofs, or only patches of the red clay tiling, with windows shattered, even missing walls were shown. Shots of crying people surveying their land flashed through, others of people trying to scrounge and/or repair their houses. And then there was the pagoda, which evidently had been struck by lightning. The roof was in shambles, several of the large windows shattered. There were even patches of walls missing.

Pictures of similar ruin in Icicle Inn followed these, but Yuffie wasn't watching anymore. When had this happened? Why didn't she know of this? Here she was, doing _nothing_, while her people were desperately trying to rebuild their county without her. Her country was finally sinking, and she wasn't there.

"Hey, Yuffie? Are you alright?"

Yuffie looked over to Tifa, who was glancing from her, to the television screen. "Yeah…I'm fine…"

Tifa gave her a pointed look, not buying it.

"I just… When did it happen?"

"A week ago, probably. Maybe more; I can't remember exactly." Both were quiet for a minute, thinking.

Yuffie knew what she was feeling, this time. Angry, frustrated, worried. She wasn't doing her job as princess of Wutai. She should be there, working alongside them, giving them hope. She needed to be there.

But she felt she should stay, for Vincent. For some reason, she felt responsible. Like if she abandoned him, he might… not pull through. If she went running back to Wutai right now, she wouldn't know whether or not he made it.

She resolved to see him through, but once she knew, she'd go back to Wutai, to home.

∞

Cloud, Cid, and Red XII came soon after, staying for a while, but soon going out to the attractions, trying to distract themselves. They'd tried to convince her to come as well, but she denied them---she just didn't feel like having fun. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and plans, while her feel useless for not being able to do anything other than sit there, waiting. She hated waiting, and it seemed that that was all she was ever doing recently.

After a couple of hours they arrived back with Cait Sith, Barret, and Marlene. Reeve had sent Cait Sith, while Barret and Marlene had been at the Saucer for Marlene's birthday. They stayed for a while, making idle chatter, despite the gloom that hung around them, until they agreed they should set up a place to stay and get at least a bit of rest.

The doctor who had been in charge of Vincent's case called out Yuffie and Tifa into a hallway shortly. He was a young man with blonde hair swept back, and even though he was wearing only a white jacket over the blue outfit, both could tell he was quite handsome. His washed-out blue eyes held a gleam that unnerved her.

"You're relatives of Mr. Valentine?" He asked with a white smile, checking the clipboard.

He didn't know the name of his patient? Yuffie thought, instantly disliking the man. "No, we're his friends. But he doesn't have any family that I know of, so you'll just have to deal with us."

Both Tifa and the doctor looked at her in surprise, eye wide, though the doctor's quickly narrowed and hardened. "Alright then," he said, glancing at the clipboard again, "Well, it seems Mr. Valentine made it through surgery. We removed the bullet, so he should heal up fine, though we'd like to have him stay for a day or two, just to be sure. And also," He lowered the clipboard, his face changing somehow. "I'd like to ask if you have any idea why Mr. Valentine has such a… differently organized body. While in surgery we found that many, if not all, of his organs had been…tampered, or played with, in both function and placement. It's unlike anything I've ever seen…"

Yuffie scowled and opened her mouth to say something, but Tifa beat her to it. "I'm sorry doctor, but we have no idea what you're talking about. You must be mistaken; Vincent is just like the rest of us. Isn't that impossible, anyways? I thought everyone's body systems were the same?" Tifa had put on a concerned, yet airy tone; though Yuffie could tell she was quite determined not to let the doctor know of Vincent's previous…surgery. No wonder everyone had been concerned about letting Vincent go to an actual hospital.

The doctor frowned, reaching into his coat's pocket for a pair of glasses, holding up the clipboard again, "But I specifically wrote down a few notes on the odd extra muscle groupings and ligaments on the back and along the shoulder blades, and the odd cases where his stomach is supposed to be…"

Yuffie paled, but Tifa spoke again, a little firmer, "We're sorry doctor, but we don't know what you're talking about. As far as we know, he doesn't either. Can we go see him now?"

The doctor was silent surveying them, but then answered, "Yes, though the drugs have knocked him out. It's room 1034."

Both of the girls thanked him before walking back to the waiting room, deciding to wait for the others before going to visit.

∞

The others returned shortly after securing a room at the Ghost Hotel. Together they walked down to Vincent's room, crowding in through the door. With everyone's gaze upon Vincent, it was a wonder he didn't wake up right then just to say he wasn't a museum display.

Though he might have well been. He looked a little better, though still a marble-like paleness to his skin, while his chest was barely moving. But no longer was he gasping every other breath, and gone was the dewy sweat that had plagued him. And yet still, he slept, some weird form of sleeping beauty.

The newly reunited team of AVALANCHE sat and hovered about the room for a good hour, occasionally starting a quietly hushed conversation, before one by one they exited, leaving for sleep at the hotel. Soon only Tifa and Yuffie were left, both sitting in melancholy silence. But even Tifa, the ever-caring one, excused herself to go rest, pleading with Yuffie to come as well. She declined; reasoning that who knew what Vincent would do if he woke up in a strange, unknown place. And so Yuffie was left sitting all by her lonesome, quietly watching both the only other occupant of the room's breathing, and the gentle rising of the sun through the tiny window on the wall by the bed.

Soon the bright white light of morning came creeping through, and, as if on cue, her stomach rumbled quite audaciously. Sighing, Yuffie mustered a bright smile in Vincent's direction, and exited, walking towards what she hoped was the cafeteria. Besides, the nurse should be along to check on him, she figured.

She quickly found the cafeteria with the assistance of several helpful arrows and signs, and sauntered over to grab a muffin and some juice. After handing the aging woman the due gil, she walked over to the large windows that showed the perfect view of the mountains beyond the dusty and dry desert, complete with a few wild chocobo racing across the dirt. Unexpectedly, Yuffie was hit with a pang of wistful yearning---she could remember racing across the planet's land, free and fast. Even during Meteor she had been able to feel that joyous sensation. And yet now, even with Sephiroth and done and dead, she felt weighed down even more. Wutai's throne descending as rapidly upon her as her father's ever-failing health, making her want to savor ever last breath of non-Wutai air. And now look where it had gotten her.

"Beautiful view, eh? Too bad it'll be gone soon…"

She turned to see the lady from behind the counter looking at her from a few feet off. Yuffie summoned a thin-lipped smile, nodding. "Yeah, it is. But what do ya mean, it'll be gone soon?"

The older woman sighed, too-red lips folding into a frown. "Dio's gonna be taking up most of it to expand the Golden Saucer. Even gonna dig up his beloved jail-yard, apparently. Hmph. It's not like it needs to be any bigger---people already pay way too much to get in already, and still they come." She was quiet for a while, letting Yuffie think for a while. Even that freedom was being taken away, all for the sake of money. It reminded her of the way her beloved Wutai had been turned into that ugly tourist trap.

"Where will the animals go?" she asked.

The woman shrugged, heaving great, drooping shoulders. "Probably away, maybe to join the others in the mountains. Some are already going just because the temperatures are too much for them. It's funny---even after all that ugly Meteor business not too long ago, people still don't realize the beauty in nature. Maybe that's why the planet made that horrible disease, and the spiked temperatures."

Yuffie frowned, "What do you mean? There's the mould even out here?"

The woman's eyebrows raised, "Why, yeah. Apparently it's everywhere, even up in the Northern Continent. Nobody knows how to kill it. I reckon it's from the Planet itself, though I don't know exactly why. It's the same as the record-breaking heat down below. Prisoners are actually dying from the heat. Never had that before."

Yuffie raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Even up North? Wow…" She was silent before sighing and biding goodbye, before heading back to Vincent's room. She pondered the recent news, wondering if it really was the Planet's doing. The mould and high temperatures, the weird fish too, maybe even that storm…could it really be the work of the planet itself? But why would it try to do that, to kill itself? Was it actually trying to kill itself, or just the humans? But that wouldn't make sense---what about the animals and plants?

Yuffie continued down, passing only a doctor in full uniform who didn't look at her, pushing a bed with a covered patient on it. She wondered if he was dead, as she bit into her muffin. Maybe one of the prisoners the cafeteria-lady told her about? Yuffie walked on for a few minutes before arriving at room 1034. She pushed open the door, but stopped when she saw the room.

He wasn't there.

Yuffie's mind raced as her eyes scanned the room. Where was he? Had he woken up and ran? Had a nurse taken him away for some reason? Yuffie looked around, though how he could be hiding behind a little potted plant she didn't know. Not even the bed was there.

That was it! The bed---if he had taken off on his own, why would he have needed to taken the bed? It's not like he was chained to it. A nurse must have taken him somewhere, though why she didn't know. Racing out and down the hallways she quickly came to the secretary desk, breathlessly begging to know where he was. Why she was so worried she didn't know---she just felt that something was…off.

The lady quickly answered that the doctor from before had taken him to the third floor for surgery, making Yuffie sprint for the elevator. After pressing the 'up' button repeatedly the door finally _dinged _and opened, revealing a balding man who quickly walked off at the sight of a red-faced, quite frightening Yuffie. Yuffie quickly jumped in and slammed on the '3' button, pacing as quickly as she could in the cramped space.

Soon the door _dinged_ again, signaling for Yuffie to burst out at a running start, quickly flashing by door numbers. _Oper. 2001, Oper. 2002, Oper. 2003…_ Yuffie turned and ran down another hallway, glancing at the numbers as she went.

"Aha!" She said as she slid to a stop in front of _Oper. 2013_, peeking in through the tiny rectangular window in the door. Squinting, she could just make out the blue form of the doctor, hunched over what seemed to be an operating table with a body on it. Her eyes widened as she saw the head of Vincent.

She burst through, grabbing a kunai from the pocket of her shorts, and preparing to throw it, just in case. "WHAT are you doing?" She yelled, making the doctor shoot up from his hunched over position, pushing off the glasses with one hand. Yuffie's eyes widened as she saw the sharp knife in his other. "You said he was done! What do you think you're doing now?"

He fumbled to respond, having both seen the sharp_er _knife in her hand, and being caught at an unawares. "I was…uh, I mean…" He scowled before forcing out, "I was just investigating!"

"Investigating what?" She asked, knife still in hand.

"Look, you're not supposed to be in here---it's a sterilized environment. If you even sneeze it's…"

"I asked you _what you were investigating."_

The doctor again scowled, deciding to just cut to the chase. "I was investigating _him_! He's not like you and I---his body is totally different! Whoever did this was a _genius_! His entire body has been reconstructed to, to _change_, I think! He's like a super-human! If we could only do this to others, we'd have… we'd be all powerful! The strength of ten men! It's truly incredible!"

Yuffie looked at the young doctor incredulously, seriously doubting his sanity. "Are you serious? The man who did this was a monster! A complete, and heartless _bastard!" _She was screeching now, red with rage. "Get _away_ from Vincent, you idiot! You're not allowed to do this!" She ran over, trying to grab Vincent, the bed, anything. But the doctor pushed her away, waving the tiny knife at her, trying to threaten her. She didn't buy it---she reached around and grabbed the bed's sides, not caring if the tiny knife had just slashed her arm. She heaved, pulling the bed across the floor by its wheels, trying to fend off the doctor at the same time.

When she finally burst through she started screaming for help, hoping that if others came the insane doctor would stop.

"What are you doing? You stupid bitch! Don't do that!" He angrily tried to cover her mouth but she quickly pushed him away. Finally deciding to put the 'ninja' title to good use, she pulled back a tiny fist, and threw it at his face, throwing her whole body into it. Her fist connected with the side of his nose, and a sickening crack could be heard. Blood started spurting out of the wound, making him wheel back, hands clutching at it.

Yuffie quickly started pushing Vincent on the bed down the hallway, almost flipping him when she threw herself into the corner. She was still screaming, but apparently nobody was there. Skidding to a stop at the elevator, she slammed the button, quickly slinging an arm around Vincent's waist. She was lucky--- the doctor either hadn't started operating, or whatever wound there was had already closed.

She glanced back, still hearing the faint howls of pain made by the doctor. Soon the doors to the elevator opened and she threw her and Vincent in, pounding on the button. She only just caught sight of the doctor and his now soaked red clothes as he rounded the corner.

And just like that they were alone, both of their heavy panting echoing in the enclosure. Yuffie shifted his weight, looking up at him as he grunted, eyes widening as her grey ones found his red ones. He was awake? She felt a wave of relief at the sight, even if he still had that awful pallor to his skin.

"Hey, are you there, Vincent?" She asked softly.

He winced slightly, but grunted, eyes still dreamy and droopy looking.

"We're almost out, 'kay?"

The doors dinged and she tugged him out, ignoring surprised looks from those waiting. She hurriedly tugged on him, pulling him over to a very angry and worried secretary.

"Miss, _what_ exactly do you think you're doing? You can't just take a patient, especially one just out of surgery!" She was up and around the desk, fretting and hovering over the both of them.

Yuffie fixed her with a glare, and then opened her mouth, "You have a freaky physco doctor here, who was trying to dissect Vincent, so I'm taking him with me! I'm not going to freaking keep him here with that physco, so if you don't want me walking out of here with him myself, phone my team!"

But the woman wasn't listening, and instead tried to relieve Yuffie of the man. Bad move.

Yuffie quickly shifter Vincent's weight, jumping aside, and then wobbling out the doors, the lady and other nurses scuttling after her. Angrily, she whipped out her phone and speed-dialed Cloud's number.

∞

_dun-dun-dun-duuuun-duuuunnnnn, dun-dun-dun-duuunnn-duuuuunnnn, dun-dun-dun---_

Cloud angrily reached over and flipped open the cell phone, desperate to stop the annoying tune.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking over at Tifa beside him, who was looking at him blearily.

"Now, Cloudie-boy, that's not the way to answer the phone? 'Yeah'---jeez, you're supposed to be professional! Gawd---" Yuffie's voice shouted over, sounding slightly tinny. Cloud sighed, brow furrowing after hearing a few other people's voices in background, shouting at her, probably.

"That's because most of my cliental don't phone me at six thirty in the morning. What is it Yuffie? What did you do?"

Cloud could almost hear her pouting through the phone, "It wasn't _me!_ It was this physco doctor who tried to freaking dissect Vincent in the middle of the morning, and I stopped him, but I swear I didn't _want_ to make him have a bloody nose! Okay, maybe a little, but still! He was trying to take apart Vinnie! I couldn't just let him---"

Cloud looked over to Tifa, who was looking more worried by the second. "Alright, we're coming."

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Sry for the delay---I honestly thought I'd have it up sooner! But things suddenly got SUPER busy, so I just didn't have time to write.

Oh well. It got up.

So here it is! More action!!!

Hope you liked it…remember, review! Plz! It helps x)

Oh, and I'll give a prize (maybe drawn pic?) to anyone who can guess Cloud's ring-tune. It's pretty easy, and not that clever on my part '

Thanx to everyone who reviewed and favved, etc. XD

Cheesynoodle.


	6. Chapter 6

"_That's because most of my cliental don't phone me at six thirty in the morning. What is it Yuffie? What did you do?"_

_Cloud could almost hear her pouting through the phone, "It wasn't me! It was this physco doctor who tried to freaking dissect Vincent in the middle of the morning, and I stopped him, but I swear I didn't want to make him have a bloody nose! Okay, maybe a little, but still! He was trying to take apart Vinnie! I couldn't just let him---"_

_Cloud looked over to Tifa, who was looking more worried by the second. "Alright, we're coming."_

∞ **EVERLAST**

Chapter Six.

"A-aren't ya just gonna angst over it? Brood in a corner? Have nightmare about it?" ---Yuffie Kisaragi

"You've found it?"

"Yes, sir. It's been partly burned and is a little roughed up, but you can still make out bits."

"Well, at least it's something. From what I've heard, it's already starting to affect him." Reeve sighed and leaned back in his designer computer chair, before adding, "And it was like that when you found it?"

"Yes, sir. Our department is very sorry for misplacing such an important document, but we're sure it was like that when it was found the first time round." Said the voice through the speaker, a little indignant.

Reeve bounced up again, leaning on his desk, fingers steepled below his chin, "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't doing you're job, only to make sure somebody else didn't get their hands on it. I'm sure it was chaos down there after the collapse, and so far you've done a very admirable job cleaning up." Again, he sighed. "Well, make sure you get it up here as quick as possible; I'll need to contact them as soon as possible. They're not out of the quicksand yet."

"Yes, sir, quick as possible. Over and out."

Reeve rolled his eyes slightly at the last line, but pushed a button on the speakers anyway, turning them off. Now entirely alone, he again leaned back, this time turning around to look out the fantastic view out his window. He looked out pensively, at the bustling city below, the orange glow of the setting sun glinting off various buildings, before closing his eyes. "No, not quite yet."

∞

Not only five minutes after boarding the _Highwind_, and she was already blowing more chunks than she knew she had in her stomach. Yuffie growled a little, glaring at the accursed bucket before the ship lurched and she was doubled over again. After a few minutes, she felt someone tap her on the arm, and she looked up to find Tifa smiling down at her.

"Here's something that should make you feel at least a little better." She said, handing Yuffie a large, pink pill. "Now come on, Barret has news of what he's been up to in Coral, and I think Cloud just got some important information from Reeve through Cait." Yuffie eyed it warily before throwing it back, gulping it down noisily, making faces the whole time. Tifa rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and grabbed her hand, hauling her up. Yuffie made sure to grab her trusty, handy-dandy bucket, just in case.

Everyone was assembled in the cockpit when the two arrived, Barret and Cid laughing boisterously at one of their communal inside-jokes, probably. Cloud standing over one of the crew's members who was looking at Cait Sith, who was perched atop the computer in front of him. Cloud had that frown he got whenever he was thinking hard about something. Which wasn't a lot, Yuffie joked in her head. It was almost like the old days, when they were still trying to find a way to stop Meteor.

Except for Vincent, she thought. He sat near the large windows, propped up in one of the ship's wheelchairs with what looked like an outdated comp-lap, desperately holding onto the railing to stop from sliding around. Or at least as desperate as _Vincent_ could look. But that didn't ring as true as it had before. Now he looked awkward and alien in one of those things. He just didn't look like himself.

"Hey Brat!"

Yuffie scowled, turning away to look at Barret, who was walking up to her. "Don't call me that, Marsh-mellow man!" Yuffie retorted back, punching him on the arm.

Barret scowled, until he pulled her into a hug, both grinning happily. "Good 'ta see ya, girlie!"

She could feel his voice rumble deep throughout her body, which was crushed in his famous bear hug. Yuffie grinned even more (if that possible, what with the width it was already stretching) and said, "Same here, ya old fart! Where ya been?"

"Ah, I've been over in Coral, ya know?" he answered, releasing her, giving her a little more room to breath. "Repairin' stuff, makin' things right again. Actually got the, uh, title o' mayor, eh?" He said, a bit sheepish.

"MAYOR? That's great, Barret!" Tifa burst in, hugging him too. "You didn't tell me that earlier!"

"Yeah, _mayor_ Barret!" Yuffie cackled, but gave him a hearty slap on the back.

Barret chuckled, rubbing the back of his head, "Well, it just didn't really come up…"

"Whatever. Anyways, where's Marlene?" Yuffie easily dismissed it, avoiding awkwardness.

"Oh, Marley's back to Coral, on the cable bus." He said, and then added while smiling, "Has a ballet recital on Sunday."

"Oooohhh… I wanted to see her again… oh yeah! She's doing ballet now, isn't she? How's that going?"

"Is'all good. Teacher's been really nice to her, even tho' she was startin' late. Real pretty too…"

"Barret!" They yelled, laughing.

Vincent watched from the position by the window, looking at their reflection in the glass. Red eyes danced to and from their laughing faces, void of emotion as usual. At least he could still do that. He sighed from behind his high collar, switching over to the view outside, where the ever-present storm clouds crowded the horizon. And yet still the blazing sun shone through, draining its bright colours onto the water below, breaking through the high, western mountains that were rapidly sinking. Vincent felt like he himself was sinking with them, the farther away they got. He imagined himself oozing down, over the chair and onto the metal floor, then through the cracks all the way down into the ocean, where he would dissolve into those crashing waves. Become one with those crashing, churning waves beneath his feet. Maybe then he'd finally be at peace. Wouldn't have any of those earthly things like responsibility, debts, sins, worries and dreams. Free of his own personal demons, both in his mind and in his body. He'd be nothing, nothing at all. He'd finally be free.

A beep from the computer on his lap made those searching eyes flash down, quickly scanning the page. His human fingertip emerged from his cloak to scroll down the page, before finally finding what he had been searching for. Tapping on the touch-pad, he again patiently waited for the older computer to load another page. Soon he was looking at a remarkably clear picture of himself, along with a few sentences adjoining. He was surprised---he was usually very careful not to be seen most of the time, especially not photographed. But these people were good; they had even caught him with his face uncovered.

He could tell it was from when everybody had been rounded up to stop Kadaj's gang, when they were trying to stop the Behemoth, by searching the background. He could see Tifa with Denzel in front of him at the fountain. That meant that they had had this photo for years. Why hadn't he heard of this sooner? Perhaps this was one of both the pros and cons of sleeping in a coffin for a few years. He had no idea what was happening, though evidently none of the other bounty hunters had found his hiding place.

He continued scanning the page, mentally storing the minimal facts and figures. He was minimally disappointed by the sum that headed the top, along with his name. Only 750, 000 gil? He had more than that in his bank account.

Scrolling down a little more ways, his eyes found a tiny box, along with some type above. "Want to get in touch? Type in a message and send it to the commissioner for more details." Along with a smiley face holding a chainsaw. How pleasant.

He clicked in the tiny purple box, then tapped away on the keyboard for a few moments, never missing a key. He then scanned it over for a moment, clicked the send button on the page, and then quickly shut off the computer.

"Hey, whatcha doin', Vinnie?" He looked up to see Yuffie standing beside him, though when she talked, she leaned down to his level. Somehow that struck him as sad. "What were a doin' with the computer, huh?"

"Nothing, Yuffie."

Both were silent for a moment while Yuffie looked out the window.

"You can look at me, Yuffie."

Yuffie swung her eyes around to meet his, startled. "It's not that, it's just---you just don't look like Vincent." She didn't bother denying it. She didn't like how he was below her, short as she was, how he didn't tower over her. It was like… he couldn't brood properly from that height.

Though he's doing a pretty good job of it right now, Yuffie thought angrily when he didn't respond. "Look, I'm just… I'm sorry for what happened before." She said, uncharacteristically sincere.

Vincent looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"At the warehouse… y'know, for you getting shot. I should've… I dunno, known he was there. I just… I'm sorry." She sniffled a bit, teary. God, why was she like this? Maybe she was just PMSing…ugh, the Great-Ninja-Yuffie did not cry in front of Vincent Valentine!

Again, Vincent wasn't responding. Yuffie held back the urge to stomp her foot and yell at him. She was _apologizing_, dammit! Not something she did on a regular basis!

She was about to walk away when he finally spoke, quietly, so that she had to strain to hear him over the rumble of the engines, and chatter and laughter of everyone else. "Why are you sorry for that? Someone such as yourself has no use worrying over someone like me. Do not think that you could have done anything. Such is the ways of fate…"

He was looking lost again, probably in past memories. She mentally snorted, mumbling, "Someone needs to tell you that" under her breath. Louder, though, she asked, "How long will you be in the wheelchair?"

He looked up again. "The doctor doesn't want me to strain myself. He also said there might be remainders of the sedatives in my body…" He trailed off, remaining silent for a moment, before asking the ninja, "Why did you leave the hospital with me early? I can't remember much. Only you yelling, and the hospital's interior decorating."

She shifted from foot to foot, uncommonly nervous, refusing to meet his eyes. "He wanted to…" She tried to find a way to say it nicely, but couldn't find any. She always had been a bit blunt. "He was trying to dissect you. You know, t' find out why you're so messed up inside." She winced after hearing herself. Maybe that was a bit too blunt.

But Vincent didn't react other than to narrow his eyes, apparently thinking on the matter, because he didn't say anything for a while after. Yuffie started getting anxious, her mind coming up with hundreds of different ways to get away from the awkwardness, each one bound to make it worse. Then eventually, "Did he find anything?"

She was surprised, and stumbled for words a little. "What… what do ya mean? He… Uh…er, no. He, uh, didn't. I stopped him before he could. A-aren't ya just gonna angst over it? Brood in a corner? Have nightmares about it?" This time, both of them visibly winced at her words.

Vincent closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the others. After a few moments he opened them again to see Yuffie staring at him, looking both rather guilty, and scared of him. "I…" He started, but stopped. "I don't know anything about my…me. I was never conscious during my prior…operation. I was dead; Hojo shot me." Yuffie looked notably surprised at this information. Obviously no one had told her. "When I woke up I was already in the casket. Only later did I find out that Lucy---Lucrecia had revived me by putting the demons into me. True, I was in a great deal of pain, but…I wasn't really _there_ when Hojo experimented on me."

It was true; he had been dead during the operation. He hadn't actually been there, at the time. He had been in someplace different altogether…someplace probably worse. When he had woken, he'd found himself in complete darkness and agony. It'd taken him hours, days, years, he didn't know, to adjust to his newfound senses. To the voices in his head. Perhaps that had been the most frightening part of it. That and his first transformation. When he'd finally gotten up, out of the casket, he'd discovered the scientific journals still left lying in the library. Written accounts of other experiments, along with his one. According to those, he had been a failed project. Left to rot away in one of the many coffins in the basement, one of the monsters shut away, dead.

"Oh, hey Yuffie. Finally stopped puking?" Vincent was brought back to the present by Cloud's voice. "Vincent? We finally got all of the transferred files from Reeve. They're…concerning you. You should come take a look."

Vincent frowned, but started wheeling himself over to the main computer on the ship, letting Yuffie help him down the stairs onto the lower platform. The others were over there as well, with Cait perched on the top of the large screen. Several large photos of sheets of important-looking papers were displayed on the screen, though many had been blackened or even burned away to the point that it was barely readable.

"These here are files on the Everlast project, everyone." AVALANCHE looked up at Cait, who, instead of the regular, annoying toy-like voice it had, was emitting Reeve's instead. "AS you can see, they were badly burnt in the fire, but you can still decipher some of the writing. We believe it has to do with you, Vincent." Reeve paused long enough for everyone to turn and look at said man like they were expecting him to suddenly grow another eyeball and a few purple tentacles, and then back to the stuffed cat.

"Apparently in accordance with your new, or rather, mixed up body, you were given another treatment of some sort. There was a different doctor who was called in, Dr. Luctient, to administer something that was codenamed 'Everlast'. We haven't been able to recover any specific details, nor any other files that were related to, or mention Everlast, but we do think that it has something to do with your immune system. It might be responsible for your body not being able to heal the bullet wound. Though why now of all times, I don't know."

Everyone was silent for a minute, slowly digesting the information, before Vincent spoke, "This Dr. Luctient, do you think he would still be living today?"

"Yes, I wondered the same thing. He is still alive---and living right here in Edge. That's why I asked Cid to bring you all here." Everyone turned to look at the sheepish captain, 'oooohhh…so that's where we're going's through their heads.

"But I was gonna go to Wutai!" Yuffie said, scowling, but blushed a bit as everyone's heads whipped around to look at her.

"Why's that, Yuffie?" Tifa asked, curious.

"Wutai was badly damaged in that big storm," here she pointed out the window, "I need to get back so I can help rebuild."

Tifa's and several others' mouths formed a silent 'oh', while Cid said, "Well you ain't getting' there now! F#$, I'm not a freakin' taxi-cab, here!"

Yuffie scowled again, but muttered a "fine", before turning back to the screen. "So, we're gonna find this doctor-dude and find out what's wrong with Vinnie?"

Cloud looked at Vincent for a moment, as if in confirmation, before saying, "Yes. Hopefully he'll tell us more…"

"Cool! Well, tell me when it's dinner. I'll be up on deck, puking my guts out. Bye!" The others mumbled a little, and then the group dissipated, leaving only Tifa and Vincent, who hadn't been able to get up and away.

The pair was silent, Vincent staring at the scans of the documents on the screen, gazing at them as if they would suddenly re-form and relinquish all their secrets to him.

"Hey, Vincent?" He looked over at her, both reddened gazes matching. "She was really worried about you, y'know." He was silent, so she continued, "You should talk to her more. Get to know her." Seeing Vincent's raised eyebrow, she added, "She'd like it."

"Would you help me up then?" he asked.

Tifa looked at him suspiciously, unsure whether or not he actually would. But, as always, his eyes were unreadable, and she complied, helping him up the steps, eyes following as he made his way out the exit.

∞

"Master, we've received a message, from an anonymous hunter. How should we respond?"

Gloved fingers reached to take the note from the messenger, holding it for a few seconds to read it before handing it back. "Tell them to meet us here in person. Then we shall see if he _deserves_ to know."

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

oooo….chapter six! Well, sorry for getting it up late. My great-oma died last week, so that kept me distracted. She was 96 though, which I'd say is a pretty good age. So yeah, that was really sad.

Anyways, this chapter was actually meant to be longer, both in the planning, and then after I cut it, I cut it again. So sorry, there wasn't much to it. But if I had kept it at the original length it would have been a kagillion words long, and sorry, but I CAN"T write such a long chapter. And then after I cut it (this is while I'm writing it, while I'm planning out what happens next in my head. Because although I have the basic plot and chapters outlined written out, I don't have EXACT details there.) I decided I really didn't want to continue on with some random Yuffietine scene, cus it would have sucked. Sorry, it's my first time doing scenes with a pairing in mind romance, so it sucks. But bear with me! So I eventually deicided to end it with some corny evil-villian dude. And some akward Vinnie vs. Tifa conversation. But it's all good.

Oh, and another thing, just in case you guys are getting peeved at the fact that Yuffie's _not_ constantly sick, my reasoning is that if she isn't thinking about it, it doesn't effect her as much. I.e. when she's distracted. So there. )

Annnndddd… Cloud's ringtone is from STAR WARS!!!! WOO-HOO!!!!

Actually, once I posted that last chapter I realized I didn't actually know the song. But thanks to my dad and his vast "Vat of Random Knowledge" I learned it was from Star Wars.

Congrats to all who guessed Loz's ring-tone in Advent---good guess! You know you're a major FF-fan when… P jk.

Thanks to everyone for the reviews, etc. You guys rock!

Hopefully I'll keep up the (not-so) consistent updating with school coming (going into High-school! Woot!). Good luck to everyone else!

Bye bye,

cheesynoodle


	7. Chapter 7

"_Master, we've received a message, from an anonymous hunter. How should we respond?" _

_Gloved fingers reached to take the note from the messenger, holding it for a few seconds to read it before handing it back. "Tell them to meet us here in person. Then we shall see if he _deserves_ to know."_

∞**EVERLAST**

Chapter Seven.

"My story is not one for me to tell to someone like you…"---Vincent Valentine

Their journey was slow and boring. The planet's weather was acting up, not only in the form of the ever-closer storm on the horizon, but in air currents and pressure. Not only this, but many animals where migrating, to where, they didn't know, but the main point was that it was _very_ hard to steer an airship when you being continuously smacked with stupid flying fish, or ridiculously large and numbered insects, splattering onto your windshield. Cid knew he should have invested in those windshield-wipers …

The _Highwind's_ inhabitants spent their days wandering around aimlessly, playing endless games of go-fish (because that was the only game they all knew how to play. Except for crazy eights, but then, nobody wanted to play that with Yuffie and Cid, who both insisted that they really did play with those abominable rules), and snacking on granola bars.

Vincent and Yuffie hadn't talked since that night, simply because between Yuffie arguments with Cid over whether or not she was cheating, and Cloud's incessant drilling of Vincent to see whether or not he was _sure_ he really, really, really, hadn't known anything about this. And while he had been allowed to forgo the wheelchair, he was rarely seen outside his cabin. It was that, and maybe the fact that they really hadn't known what to say to each other after that rather awkward conversation. Yuffie of course acted like nothing had changed, keeping up with her usual cheery face and childish games, while Vincent brooded and pondered what the would do when they finally did meet the doctor. But neither could ignore that something had changed, not just in that conversation, but also over the past few day's events. Neither wanted to acknowledge the fact, maybe because they simply didn't know _what_ had changed, but both knew it.

Tifa, of course, realized that neither would get anywhere if they continued like this, and so left it to herself to set things in motion. A little push could go a long way, couldn't it? And so this was why she pulled Yuffie aside into the kitchen (which had been dubbed an out-of-bounds area for one slightly too hyper ninja).

"So…what's up?" Yuffie broke the awkward silence, and bringing Tifa back from wherever she had been the last five minutes of staring at her. The older woman sighed and shook her head, walking over to one of the chrome counters and sliding herself up onto it, patting the space next to her. Yuffie obliged, climbing up, but not settling down until she had fished about in the cupboard behind their backs for a package of cookies. When she was seated and happily munching away on the cookies (Tifa was sure to keep count; one did not need a sugar-high ninja around), Tifa rounded on her, launching right in.

"So Yuffie…I was thinking that we needed to have a girl-talk, recently." Yuffie stopped munching, looking over at her, a bit surprised. They hadn't had one in such a long time…maybe even since Aeris' death. They'd either been too busy, or just hadn't felt the need too. And after the whole Meteor incident Tifa had returned to Midgar and helped to build Edge, along with a new Seventh Heaven, while Yuffie had started helping WRO, with Reeve. Besides, it would have felt off-center; they were missing one person.

"Why?" Yuffie asked, mentally trying to think back to what she had done recently to make her deserve this punishment (in the past, they had always involved ill-fated make-overs).

"It's about you and Vincent…you like him, don't you?" She waggled her eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.

Yuffie's reaction was instantaneous, "What? No way! He's gross! I mean, stuck in that stinky old coffin---he probably has spiders in his hair!" She scowled at Tifa's laughter and fought valiantly to save her box of cookies from Tifa's reach.

After that matter was settled (Tifa was now holder of the cookie box, munching smugly), Tifa continued on. "But really, honestly, do you like him? I mean, you were worried sick when he was hurt, right? Soooo…you like him!"

Yuffie scowled at Tifa's great deduction, "I do not! I mean, come on! He's Vinnie! An' I'm Yuffie, the Great-not-to-mention-sexy-ninja! We don't mix that way." She pulled a face.

Tifa rolled her eyes, though she didn't respond; choosing to take another cookie from the box instead. After a while, she started again. "Look, what after what happened after Costa Del Sol… I think you two should talk. Now you're both avoiding each other---I mean, what's up? You two used to get along quite well back when Meteor was falling, and even during Kadaj's incident. Sure, he went back to the ShinRa Mansion---but still. What's up with you two?"

Yuffie harrumphed and sighed, grabbing a cookie yet again. "We already did _talk_. Course, it wasn't like it was a fantastic one either, what with him being Vincent and all." She forced a grin, "But I guess…it just really shook me up to see him like that. So close…" She paused, lost in thought. "But we're still friends, eh?" She looked back up at Tifa, grinning sunnily.

Tifa chuckled at her dramatic mood swings, but sensed the conversation at a close. "I still think you should talk to him, though." She smiled at Yuffie's face before hopping off the counter. "I'm gonna go talk to Cloud, and probably phone my friend at Seventh Heaven who's been taking care of it for us."

"Cool," Yuffie said off-handedly, jumping off as well. "I'll go… play some more cards with Cid; I don't feel too good anymore…"

Tifa smirked wickedly, "Shouldn't have eaten so many cookies." She singsonged as she danced out the door.

∞

Yuffie found her chance at their pit stop, just south of Edge. The storm and air currents had done nothing to ease their flight. As they had reached the mountainous regions it had only worsened, forcing the _Highwind_'s captain to stop and make camp for a night. Besides, one could barely see with the mist covering most of the ground, and the large and tall spikes of mountains shooting up through it. They found themselves perched near the top of one of the lesser mountains, on an almost plateau-like land, on a shelf of rock. Yuffie disembarked hurriedly (her sickness had gone downhill since her and Tifa's little chat), choosing to brave the frigid air of the mountains instead of the _Highwind_'s warmth.

"Frik, it's nippy noodles out here…" Yuffie mumbled and grumbled to herself as she hugged herself. It was already night, and whereas she probably would have been able to stand the cold, the temperature was way below what she had guessed, leaving her now stranded outside, freezing her butt off in her short shorts, shirt and vest. She did a little jig for a minute, trying to regain a little feeling in her feet, but stopped as another gust of wind sent shivers down her spine. She stared at the huge airship, docked just meters away, full of light and warmth. But just the thought of getting on it made her stomach queasy. Nope, not happening. She'd just suffer out here, all alone, in the dark. Maybe she'd get frostbite---she'd always wondered if the limb really did turn black.

Busying herself with this thought kept her mind off the dark and the cold, but after a few minutes she again found herself shivering all over. Walking a fair ways, she found a ledge of rock to sit on by the ship's lights, and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. Setting her nose on her knees, she starred off into the dark opposite her, where only a few odd shapes were distinguished here and there.

The bitter cold was actually a bit pleasant of a change from the _Highwind_'s humid air. While the large ship did have air conditioning and a more-than-good ventilation system (she should know, she'd explored every single shaft), Cid was too much of a money-grubber to spend money on the electrical and gas needed. The air out here cleared her head and cooled her down, maybe a little too much, but it was still quite nice. Though she couldn't help but remember that coldness in her dream, or rather her unconscious episode, when she had talked to Vincent. Then, the air had been weaved and stitched with fear and danger, sealed with darker, uglier stenches of madness and jealousy, envy and hate. It was weird---Vincent himself seemed scared by it.

She pondered on the subject more, trying to figure out exactly what that entire experience had been about. She didn't know whether it had actually been _real_, as weird as it sounds, or just something her mind made up. After all---Vincent hadn't really acted like the Vincent she knew. Let's say it was real, she told herself, and both of them were actually together in some weird world, mind, alternate universe. What would Vincent be afraid of? Had wanted to protect her from? He would have to have _known_ what it had been.

She starred out into the darkness again as the distant thunder reached her ears, though her mind was more focused on the task than her slowly freezing body parts. What if…what if it had been _Chaos?_ The name seemed to echo on and on throughout her mind. It made sense; Vincent knew the being, and while he'd embodied it quite a few times, he had always made it very clear to be wary; he didn't trust himself when it came to restraining the demon. He would never say it, but he was afraid of it.

There was a soft swishing sound of fabric to her right, making her head whip 'round to see said man step out of the shadows, only the red cloak and his pale face stood out dimly in the suddenly meager light, body swathed in shadows. It seemed like the darkness clung to him, letting him go only when absolutely necessary. The airship's light seemed to be sucked in by him and his shell, and where it had been a blaring white light farther away, it now resembled a mighty yet distant star that only dare to tip-toe across the surface.

"Hey Vincent." Her voice sounded loud and fake in the air; the night was made for whispering, hushed and soft so that words would float away if not caught.

Vincent's reply was a mere nod of acknowledgement. Neither spoke for a while, Yuffie looking out to the darkness once again, body shivering and this time and well aware of it---somehow she seemed unable to think properly with him around. Finally after too long a silence for Yuffie, the ninja glanced over at the gunslinger, pausing for a moment as if in indecision, before reaching out a hand to pat the cold rock beside her.

Garnet eyes studied her for a moment, glancing over at the seat beside her, before body followed suit, feet closing distance while body perched on the edge of the rock, politely distanced. Even while sitting on hard rock, he seemed so uptight and ramrod, Yuffie mused.

And again silence reigned.

Until Yuffie sighed and started the conversation, in all ways a Yuffie beginning: " I'm freezing." She breathed out, eyes crossed down to see if she could see a cloud of breath.

"Why did you come out then?" was his reply as he started watching her exploration into whether or not she could make those 'o' shaped rings smokers were supposed to be able to do, except with her visible breath.

She looked over at him, eyebrows raised, "Because Yuffie-the-oh-so-sexy-ninja-babe was sick of being sick!" she said with a 'duh' expression.

He raised his eyebrows, deciding to humor her, "Then why didn't Yuffie the Great Ninja take a coat?"

She pouted and frowned, "Because I didn't think of it." She looked over at him, whose corners-of-the-eyes had scrunched; he was either smirking or smiling behind the high collar. Inwardly, she warmed at the thought. "What about you? Whatcha up to out here, all by your lonesome?"

"Thinking."

His eyes had stopped crinkling now, and the little forehead not covered by the red bandanna was beginning to crease. She herself frowned at this, asking, "About what?" Another gust of wind sent her shoulders up to her ears.

He was, as per usual, silent for a while. Probably thinking about his answer, weighing each one in turn, trying to predict the outcome. She wondered if he ever, in his life, felt the need to take a risk, or even _wanted_ to for that matter. Everything was either precise and clear, straight forward and smooth, or simply (though that in itself is a lie) smoke and mirrors. In body, mind and spirit, he embodied these. Brash red against black and white, both startling and loud. And yet they seemed to so easily, ready at his command, to blend into the shadows, hide him, cloak him, shield him from the world.

"Hey, Vince. What's your favourite colour?"

He looked surprised at this, looked at her questioningly. She answered the unsaid question easily, without hesitation. "Back in the ship, when we had that talk about what had happened. You told me how you hadn't really…been there when Hojo had experimented on you, right?" She paused, looking at him in confirmation, and then continuing after her nodded, "Well, I had never really known that about you, eh? Like, what _really_ happened before, when you were a Turk and everything. And I realized that I really don't actually know you as well as I thought I did. So…what's your favourite colour, Mister Valentine?" She grinned cheekily afterwards, though both had been surprised at her words. She was usually so garrulous in her speech, though Vincent had long thought that it had been a mask over her true self. And yet here she was, laying it down before him, her thoughts and reasoning. You could say that he felt some odd, old and hardened part of him warm with but a pinch of pride. Perhaps she was, dare he say it, growing up?

"And what did you think of me before?" He asked, amused.

She blushed a bit at the answer that came out of her mouth, realizing how very shallow she sounded: "A broody Vampire stuck in his cheesy-romance past."

She could have sworn she heard a chuckle escape him.

"And now what do you think?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe if you'd let me get to know you…" She wheedled, smiling at the lightness that now decorated the air around them. She liked it when it was like this between them.

He seemed to sober (though you can't really say that about him---he's always like that). "My story is not one for me to tell to someone like you…"

Instantly, she responded with enough practice, "Or maybe you just don't really want to tell me. I'm ready for it, but maybe you're not." Gone was the smile, and suddenly the ninja was serious, even though she was barely thinking about the words coming out of her mouth. "You---You don't have to make your past yourself, right? Didn't somebody say that actions speak louder than words? Your past is now only made up of words---_you _decide, choose, what you do; what you _are_."

She stopped, mouth still open to say more, but it looked as if what had been said was enough. Vincent was looking at her with wide eyes; and though he had barely moved since she had started, Yuffie could tell he was already retreating, resorting to his smoke and mirrors.

She harrumphed, though it was with little conviction, and returned her knees to their former position, again feeling the cold.

Silence reigned. Yuffie, again shivering, was glancing skittishly over at Vincent, who seemed to be trying to process everything, including the fact that Yuffie had said something that seemed to actually make him think, rather than the other way around. Eventually the gunslinger sighed, making the high-strung ninja jump ever so slightly. He was going to leave, she thought, betting against herself in her mind. Run away to go be by himself. He always did. He was moving to stand up, she saw. Now she was raking in the winnings. Two fully mastered Bahamut summons, maybe some sparkly magic materia.

He stopped once he was standing, though, looking at her for a while. His eyes were crinkling at the corners again.

"…So troublesome." He paused, "Give me a little more time."

Yuffie looked up at him from her position, huddled on the rock. For another moment he paused, before easily undoing the buckles on the cloak and swinging it off him, before silently swinging it round to let it settle on her shoulder instead, and heading back off to the ship.

Yuffie sat for a while longer, hands clutched around the large red cloak, huddled with it around her. It was probably made of wool, which meant she was one comfy ninja. And yet she could _still_ feel the antsy feeling in her limbs, growing more intense each minute she sat there. Eventually she hopped up, jogging back to the ship for a minute to grab a flashlight, and then walking off, close to the rock she and Vincent had been sitting on. Walking a little further, she kept swinging the light in a wide circle, careful to watch for any sharp cliffs. It turned out that there was a little slope off the right, down to another level of rock slab. Putting the flashlight between her teeth, she careful scaled down, landing with a soft _thump_ on the hard ground.

Taking out the light again, she started walking on a little further, pebbles kicked away by her feet. It was totally dark now, the ship's lights only brushing the higher rocks and dead trees with light. She turned the flashlight upwards, trying to see if it could reach the tops of the other mountains. The little beam grew fainter and fainter, though, before dying out completely before it could reach the high mountain peaks.

Suddenly her foot fell onto something soft and squishy, making her release a loud squeak and jump back in fright. The light was quickly thrown down to spotlight on the lump she had stepped on, which hadn't moved from its spot. Suddenly she realized how stupid she had been to go for a walk in the middle of the night on a random mountain that probably still had monsters on it, without her Conformer.

But as the lump didn't move, not an inch, even with her flashlight shining brightly on it. Stepping a little closer she looked at it, trying to figure out what it was. It had feathers; she knew that for sure, inky black ones, covering a bloody bird-like body the size of her forearm, like a raven. But as she circled around it to try and see the head, she was soon viewing a dead-white, bumpy, boiled-like surface that covered and popped out from the head. You couldn't even see the eyes; the only other thing was the bloodied beak. The whole thing was a mess, with blood and white, gooey substances surrounding it. Yuffie checked her shoes, and there was indeed red and white smeared over the soles. Another gust of wind cued a sickly strong smell to waft up her nose, reeking of dead and blood, along with the other substance which smelled even worse, making her cough and hurriedly cover her nose.

"…Shit." Came her muffled voice. How come she hadn't at least smelled the damn thing earlier? It _reeked_. Glancing down, she was again reminded of Vincent's cloak, which was currently pressed firmly against her nose to try and get rid of the ugly smell that invaded her senses.

Again, she looked at the poor thing, searching the area around it with the beam of light to try and find the attacker, or others like it. And indeed, she soon found the rest of the rock around it had smears of blood and other things, along with a few other animals in similar states further off.

Questions flew to her mind, trying to figure out what had happened here. The disease (she was pretty damn sure it was an illness. No animal would have ever been born like this. And from the smell, you could tell it wasn't actually natural) was gruesome by itself, but that didn't account for the blood everywhere. She was walking on before she could even think about it, curiosity coursing through her, heart pumping adrenaline into the mix.

The number of bodies increased as she walked on, along with the stench. Soon even the cloak's distinct smell (she thought she had probably memorized it by now) couldn't block it out any longer. The blood on the rocks was now coating her shoes, and there seemed to be no end to the bodies. And then she found them.

The path she had walking on widened into an open basin, surrounded on either sides by larger mountains, leaving the large space for trees and bushed to push their way up through the cracks. But the scene was different now: instead of green boughs, there was large, bare branches twisting up in sharp shapes, and what was left of the bushes looked like a mess of tangled barbed wires, thorns piercing in every which way.

And everywhere, there were bodies. Dozens and dozens of birds, some in different states, though all had that same disease eating away at them, though the piles of them did not move an inch. Yuffie had quickly come to a conclusion after seeing one of the raven's eyes, which had been a mix of bloody red and milky white: They had attacked each other. Must have gone mad from the disease, and attacked the others.

Yuffie's eyes were wide and her body shaking, hands clenched around her nose, as she stared at the sight. She had never seen such a sickening display of death, not even on the field. Soon she was bent double, dry heaving on the ground along with the bloody mix.

Death itself was dead.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Get it? Ravensdeath, dead? Oooooo…!!!

Anyways…sorry for another interlude-ish chapter (that turned out way longer than I had wanted, in comparison to the content. Originally it would have a lot more in it, but I ended up dragging it out, especially with the dead-birdy part). Oh, yeah, and sorry for the gore. But it was fun to write!

Course, Tifa and Yuffie's conversation is atrocious ** c**ringes

Anyways… really should have gotten it up sooner, but I went on a Naruto-craze! (Which is probably why Vincent pulled a Shikamaru!) And then I was busy all week and basically all weekend, especially wince our school had this sleepover school thing for all nineth graders (yep, first year o' high school!), in which we didn't sleep at all. Instead we rand around for most of the evening, had a three-hour dance, and then a movie marathon of the Final Destination Trilogy (the first one is the only decent one). Anyways, it was TONS of fun, even though all I've bee able to do is sleep (well, not really. Been keeping busy). And my legs KILL. I've been hobbling around everywhere.

Oh yeah, say 300 today, finally! Anyways, it rocked, if you like guys in battle uniform (which is huge red cape, funky helmets and weird boxer-except-leather attire (and believe me, I am NOT one of those people), along with tons of gore, random sex-scenes and really good battle that was what it actually was probably like back then (except for the awesome-sweet moves). But I really did like it. It's not as bad as it sounds.

Anways, thanks to everybody who reviewed (cookies to all!), faved, etc. (Plus 1000+ hits!!!! WOOT!)

Promise to have the next chappie up this week, hopefully.

TONIGHT WE DINE IN HELLLLL!!!!!!!!

Bye bye!

Cheesynoodle oxo


	8. Chapter 8

_Yuffie's eyes were wide and her body shaking, hands clenched around her nose, as she stared at the sight. She had never seen such a sickening display of death, not even on the field. Soon she was bent double, dry heaving on the ground along with the bloody mix._

_Death itself was dead._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Eight.**

"And then…words. I can't remember what they were saying, but I remember knowing for sure that this wasn't just another lab rat. It was _human_."---Dr. Edward Luctient

They arrived in Edge confused and tired. Yuffie had shown them her new discouvery, and all had agreed that there was something very, definitely, wrong. Yet nobody had any explaination, and so they continued onwards to the large, industrial city, dark thoughts clouding their minds.

Upon arriving, Tifa had hurriedly insisted everyone stay at Seventh Heaven, scurrying about arranging sleeping sets for everyone. Denzel had ran in from a friend's after seeing the Highwind, and quickly gone to the rest and quizzed them for new stories, dutifully fetching drinks for everyone, while Cloud quickly whipped up a late brunch of scrambled eggs and toast. The sounds of happy chatter and happy people eating food continued until Cloud stood up from the head of the table, coughing a bit until everyone had stopped their actions and turned to look at him.

"I wanted to talk about the trip to see Dr. Luctient… and who will be coming. I thought we could go over soon---he lives on the other side of Edge, near the remains of Midgar." He paused, looking over at Vincent, who, as usual, sat emotionlessly in front of his barely-touched plate of eggs. "I doubt we all need to go, so…who'll be going with me and Vincent?"

It was quiet for a moment before noise exploded each member of the team talking in various tones about their choice, all equally animated. Cloud looked at Barret and Cid who had returned to fighting over the last bit of eggs, Yuffie, who was bouncing about in her seat, yelling and waving around her hands in large gestures; and then Red and Vincent who were both looking on with a familiar look akin to eye-rolling (though both were too dignified to do such a thing). Finally he held up a hand, shouting, "Guys!" waiting for them to settle down before continuing. "Raise your hand if you want to go. Geez, no need to shout…"

Yuffie hurriedly raised her hand, still bouncing excitedly in her seat, along with Red, who raised his tail. Barret and Cid had settled on splitting the eggs (though this would probably spur on another argument), apparently not feeling the need to go. Tifa shook her head, reasoning she should probably clean up and talk to the friend who had been taking care of the bar to let them know they were back.

"So it's Vincent and me, Yuffie, and Red?" Cloud stated, looking over everyone for confirmation.

"Reeve will meet you there at noon, okee-day?" Cait Sith piped up smiling impishly. Cloud nodded, and sat back down, picking up another piece of toast.

∞

It had only been but a week since her last time in the bustling newly-bourn city of Edge. Yuffie could barely remember what exactly had happened before, but she was certain that this time it was drastically different. And yet as she glanced over at the solemn gunslinger she figured it wasn't all that different.

Edge had been a miracle---after the general destruction of Midgar, who hadn't had doubts that even without ShinRa, they would be able to rebuild, with such destruction around them? And yet they had done it, in a rare moment of unity, without malice, greed, anger. It had been a great, and by no means easy feat. But they had done it---the angel above Seventh Heaven was even still standing.

Their trip through the high-speed city was quick, racing along the freeway and then branching off into one of the nicer parts of town, twisting along paved roads, a few defoliated trees growing up beside sidewalks, large houses set back behind long and winding driveways. Yuffie whistled as she surveyed the place with no small amount of disdain.

Cloud glanced back at her through the rear view mirror, "They actually aren't that bad, you know. Many of them have contributed large amounts of money to help rebuild, and ton just as much work to help as anyone else. Me and Tifa actually know a couple who've opened up their home as an orphanage of sorts."

Yuffie raised her eyebrows, not entirely believing, but trusting enough of Cloud to let some of the negative feeling pass. She didn't get it, how some people could be so selfish. She remembered walking through Wutai as a child, crossing from rich, illustrious red-painted lacquered houses to mud-and-stick huts, bright-green plastic roofs salvaged from the port's shipment garbage, women and children gathering sea salt on the shores, where a pound sold for less than five gil. Some might say that that was just the way cities were---but that didn't mean Yuffie agreed with them.

"Here we are," The shiny black car (something Cloud took almost as much pride in as his precious Fenrir) wound up along the long drive, green around scruptuously clean of familiar trash. Soon they pulled to a stop in front of the large white house, silent for a moment, regarding the grandeur. "Looks like Reeve's already here." Cloud said, drawing Yuffie's eyes over to another black car parked neatly on a patch of gravel.

"Well, let's go!" Yuffie hopped out of the car, stretching a bit as if she'd been in there for hours. Red crawled out after her, while Vincent and Cloud exited the front seats. Letting Cloud lead the way, they followed him up a set of white pavement steps to a grand oak door, Cloud ringing the doorbell before Yuffie could start pushing the orange button maniacally. The group waited for a moment before they heard the sound of shuffling steps and the door opened to reveal a quaint, dumpy, motherly looking woman, complete with glasses perched upon her button nose and a cat twining itself around her feet.

"Why, hello! What may I do for you?"

Cloud explained that they were here to meet the doctor, while Yuffie immediately tuned him out and turned instead to peer into the house's interior behind the woman. The hall was decorated with bland wallpaper, a little table and mirror sitting beside a hat stand, a winding staircase running up to their left. In a way it reminded her too much of Aeris' mother's house, discluding the fact that it was in slums. When they had gone back to break the new of Aeris' death to her mother, it was easy enough to picture Aeris there, tending to the flowers in the garden, sitting at the table along with them, trying to comfort her weeping mother.

"This way, dears!" Yuffie and others shuffled into the house, squeezing through after the bustling woman. Yuffie looked up at the man by her side, close enough to feel the chill of his presence, far enough away to leave her with only the swift brush of the red cloak. If it had been anyone else, she might have offered a sunny smile, but this was _Vinnie,_ and Vinnie's didn't need smiles at times like these.

The woman led them into a sitting room, or the "parlor" as she called it, letting them exchange greetings with a tea-sipping Reeve, before saying she would need to make an extra pot for everyone else. It was absurd, this type of woman in Edge. The others settled down on the antique pink couches, wood trim along the top of the backrests. Presently the woman (who now introduced herself as "Margaret", but insisted them on calling her "Grandma") was back with a tray of cookies and tea in flowered tea cups, along with a saucer of milk for Red ("Oh, well I thought to myself, what a _big_ kitty! I better bring the extra-big saucer, with the cute little kittens with blue ribbons on it, out for her!" Yuffie silently snickered at this, "And some lovely cookies for the little girl, too!" Yuffie pouted at this, but accepted the cookies anyways), saying the Doctor would be out in a moment.

Silence reigned for a while, only broken by the occasional crunching by Yuffie, and slurping and sipping of the tea (which would have made Cid envious). Vincent for his part was silent, though he did wonder at what type of man this scientist was. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd imagined him to be probably mad, or at least a bit too involved in his work. After all, judging from all the other scientists he had met in his life, he was experienced in their ways---too literally for his tastes.

And then again they heard the shuffling of footsteps, the creak of a doorknob, and soon Dr. Luctient entered.

He was a tiny man, probably only coming up to Vincent's waist, hunched over and graying, hair sticking up in a messy bird's nest, frail body covered in a tacky old brown suit, goggle-lens glasses perched upon his nose, eyes squinting, mouth hiding behind a bushy white mustache, which, despite the hair, was kept neatly trimmed. He looked like a long-lost grandfather, who spent his time collecting teacups and other antiques, the grandfather clock.

And yet upon seeing Vincent, his eyes widened (Yuffie noted they were bright, clear blue), and his body instantly quivered. Yuffie tried to think of what they would do if he were to have a heart attack right then and there.

But he didn't, much to everyone's relief. Instead he nodded to everyone in acknowledgement, and shuffled over to an open armchair still quivering. Reeve passed him a cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully, the steam condensing on his bristly mustache, eyes still trained on the apparently familiar gunner.

"I see you recognize our friend here, Vincent Valentine." Reeve started, breaking the awkward silence. "You're Dr. Luctient, am I correct?" The doctor nodded,  
"I'm Reeve Tuesti, and these are my friends Cloud Strife, Nanaki or Red XIII, and Yuffie Kisaragi. We came to ask you about a project you had overseen while working for ShinRa electrical company…codenamed Everlast. It seems it has become something of a problem for our friend here, and we needed more information on it…" He trailed off, while everyone stared at the elderly scientist.

The scientist looked at them with wide eyes, cradling his cup to him, before rushing to say, "I don't work for ShinRa anymore."

Yuffie imagined that were he an animal, he would be an old white hare, frozen and quivering in fear.

"Yes, we know that. We just need to learn more about it. We're not going to hurt you." He added as an afterthought.

Again it was silent, everyone waiting for the retired scientist to start, possible, hopefully, explaining what exactly was going on. If possible, it was even more awkward and tension filled, until finally the doctor took a sip of tea, before speaking.

"I worked on Everlast more than 30 years ago, when I was much younger, and working to earn myself a name in science. I was eager to prove myself, and very dedicated to my work." Vincent was starting to see some similarities. "I had just graduated out of University with a degree in life sciences and a minor in sciences and technology, and was living in Midgar. I soon got a job at ShinRa, which was escalating in power quite quickly at the time. Thousands of new things were made possible with this new source of power---it opened thousands of doors, all ready for me to enter. I chose to accept a job under Professor Gast; you've heard of him?" All nodded at the familiar name. "He was an amazing man---intellectual and with a creative mind that created and discovered many wonderful things. He allowed me to explore different fields, helping and nudging me, took me to the most wonderful places, but also by allowing me to trudge along independently.

"I'm not sure when the idea first crossed my mind---perhaps it was one of many conversations with the other professors and scientists, maybe even Dr. Hojo or Dr. Crescent." Yuffie and the others glanced at Vincent, but again, he was barely aware, instead lost in the past. "I came up with the idea of infusing materia---which was one of the subject and materials that so fascinated me in those days---into the human body."

The doctor paused, sipping his tea and accepting a cookie from Yuffie's plate to munch on. He seemed excited, remembering the excitement of exploration and discovery. His blue eyes were feverish and he seemed to have forgotten his fright, along with his age.

"The possibilities were endless---all the different types of materia there were and are, summons, magic, command, it was amazing! I could barely decide how to start! Imagine: people with the power of possibly even powerful Ifrit _inside_ them!" Yuffie did imagine, and the ideas swept her away so quickly she almost didn't catch the rest of what he was saying.

" But the idea of mako showers was brought to light before I had a chance to present my ideas. Then SOLDIER came about, as well as the war with Wutai." Yuffie's dream floated away, and she was suddenly quite aware she had dribbled into her teacup.

"I continued with my work, producing many papers and experiments, showing its possibilities through experiments on animals and even plants. A few wealthier associates of Professor Gast that I had met before funded more of my research, along with the ShinRa Company. It was made a project: Project Everlast. I was given materials and money---everything I needed.

Yuffie looked at him, in rapture like a child at story time, as he seemed to age and grey until he looked even older than before. "But I couldn't do it. Nothing was working---specimens were behaving weirdly, sometimes rejecting it, sometimes accepting almost too much, for they started to mutate, which I declared failure as well. It got to a point where I was at the end of the road, it seemed.

"After failing to produce anything substantial, the project was cancelled and I was soon degraded to a simple helper, transferred over to the ShinRa Mansion in the small town of Nibelheim." He paused again to take a breath, looking up at them, sensing the air tighten with anxiousness. It always happened in Nibelheim, didn't it? Thought Yuffie. Geez, it's worse than the Golden Saucer. "I was assigned to help the newly raised Professor Hojo, along with a team of scientists. I will not explain what happened there, but there were truly things that bordered on barbaric and inhuman. Nearing the end, no one wanted to be there, let alone part of the experiments.

"Then one night, I heard a ruckus in the basement, where the labs were. A shot, I thought I heard. I went down to check…the experiments were known to create such a noise, but one couldn't trust them not to escape at least once. So down I went…I met Hojo. He seemed, well, to put it bluntly, quite mad. He was still wearing his lab coat, but this time it was covered in blood. He told me to go back to bed; he was just finishing up a specimen. I was about to turn around and go back when…I hear a---a moan. And then…words. I can't remember what they were saying, but I remember knowing for sure that this wasn't just another lab rat. It was _human_."

Yuffie knew where this was going. And by everyone else's expression, they did too. The old man continues, eyes wide, face white, hands shaking as he gestured wildly.

"I forced myself past him, and I saw him. I---I…I saw you, didn't I, sir?" He was pointing at Vincent, and again Yuffie marveled at how positively dark Vincent looked, even sitting on a pink couch with a teacup in hand.

Vincent didn't reply right away, nor did he need to. But eventually out came a, "…Yes. I was there that night." He was sure _there_, Yuffie thought.

The old man nodded, lowing his hand, now shaking so badly that his teacup was rattling on its saucer in his lap. "I found him on the examination table, s---strapped down. He was bleeding so, so much. I wanted to do something, anything, but Hojo…he wouldn't let me. He threatened that if I ever told anybody about this he would kill me next."

The man took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. Yuffie felt sorry for him and guilty at herself for making him go through it all over again, but also angry, that he didn't have the guts to at least try to help Vincent by telling someone else.

"He came to me a week later, and I still hadn't told anybody. I'd had nightmares and could barely sleep, or even keep my food down. People were starting to notice. But that wasn't what he wanted me for. He'd apparently read some of my papers. He knew about my work prior to that. He said that if I did this one last thing for him, I'd be f---free.

He wanted me to implant one of the branches of Everlast into him." He couldn't meet Vincent's piercing eyes when he said this, "To make your immune system stronger. But---But you were _dead_. He'd, he'd done some horrible things to you, which I had no understanding of. You were…"

He trailed off, and did not speak for a long time. The others were silent as well, solemn and grave from their thoughts. But presently Cloud spoke up, for the first time. "What exactly was the Everlast Project?"

Dr. Luctient looked up, eyes bloodshot and watery, looking at Vincent for a moment, before shakily getting to his feet, "Let me take you to my lab. It will be much easier to explain there."

He waited for everyone to put down his or her tea and cookies (though Yuffie stole a couple for on the go), and then started back through the doorway through which he had come. The group followed him, not bothering to fill the silence with chatter. Soon they came to another door, this one more modern, metal painted grey, with a grided window. The doctor pushed it open, and they all followed through.

It was more of a greenhouse than a laboratory, Yuffie thought. Labs in her mind were supposed to be all dark except for glow-y green and purple lights, full of test tubes and beakers, cages and coffins. Basically like the ShinRa Mansion basement. But this was much different. The entire two walls and roof were made of glass panels, letting the sunlight reach the multitude of foliage that reached from the ground to the ceiling. Thousands of different plants and species left barely enough room to see outside, some looking like they were from the Sleeping Forest, others looking like they belonged in Gongaga. On two long tables rested stacks of papers, pens and pencils, cages of birds and rodents, complex constructions of glasses and tubes.

"The Everlast Project was not necessarily complex in procedure, but more so in ideas." The doctor walked over to perch on a stool near the table, calling all eyes on him. "The general idea was to implant materia into the body to make it excel at something. In this…case, it was healing and the body's defense system.

"When I operated on you, I used the core compound of a very powerful 'Restore' materia, and implanted it into certain groupings of cells. It's like super-charging the cells---resulting in a high defense against illnesses and a faster rate of healing. These cells split and double, making more and more."

Cloud nodded, while Reeve and Red looked thoughtful. "So," Reeve asked, "then why has Vincent's Immune system been backfiring on him?"

The doctor frowned, "Ah…so that's why you wanted to hear about it. It has been happening to my other patient's as well. They've---"

"---Other patients?" Reeve broke in.

"I have applied this to other plants and animals. It seems that the same thing is happening to them…here, let me show you." He hopped off the stool and waddled over to another door, gesturing for them to follow.

The room inside was a bit more like the stereotypical one in Yuffie's imagination, thought this time it wasn't their surroundings that demanded attention. There were cages, pots and cages, holding dead plants and animals. The room smelt of mould and decay, along with another familiar smell.

"Ah! It's one of the crows from before!" Yuffie exclaimed upon seeing one of the cages. Inside was the carcass of a raven, a red and white mess.

The doctor sighed and nodded, hands clasped behind his back. "Yes, it's been attacking the other animals outside as well."

"Would you care to explain this?" Vincent asked, deep tenor striking out. The doctor looked a little stunned that he'd actually spoken (like he was just a mobile carcass, Yuffie thought).

"T---This is what has been happening when Everlast fails. My theory is that the cells begin to 'think' of each other as unwanted guests in the body, germs. After all, it is a foreign substance to the body that's infused the cells. They attack each other, therefore killing the body on their way."

"That still doesn't account for the birds outside that look like these ones." Cloud pointed out.

"That is because of my stupid, brainless-ness." Dr. Luctient looked positively glum. "I…I'm afraid to say I…I took it too far. I, I experimented on the _planet_."

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!!

So, you finally get a clue as to what the hell's going on!

Sorry I didn't get this chapter up as soon as I wanted, but school's getting busier. Anyways…I'm pretty pleased with this. The first part had to be pushed and pushed, but the second part, with Dr. Luctient (I love him, the feeble old man), came out quite easily. Anyways, I really hope you guys can forgive all the horrible grammar mistakes and other horrible writing atrocities that's blackened all these chapters---I spell check, but what can I say, I'm lazy!

See ya soon!

cheesynoodle


	9. Chapter 9

"_T---This is what has been happening when Everlast fails. My theory is that the cells begin to 'think' of each other as unwanted guests in the body, germs. After all, it is a foreign substance to the body that's infused the cells. They attack each other, therefore killing the body on their way."_

"_That still doesn't account for the birds outside that look like these ones." Cloud pointed out._

"_That is because of my stupid, brainless-ness." Dr. Luctient looked positively glum. "I…I'm afraid to say I…I took it too far. I, I experimented on the _planet_."_

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Nine.**

"_Issa nou murdear, issa nou san doumter."_

'You enter, you're not coming back.' --- Leasion Abraxus XI

"You WHAT?"

"What did you---"

"Huh?"

Everyone exclaimed, partly confused and disbelieving. Did I hear him right? Yuffie wondered to herself. Either she was just going deaf from Barrett's snoring, or he had said something about using the weird experiment on the _planet_. But that was impossible, right? How could the planet take in something like that? Why did the doctor think that it would work the same way, and why the hell did he do it in the first place?

By the doctor's guilty look, along with the other's angry and disbelieving expressions, it was the second option. Thank God.

"Wait. You mean you used the thingy on the planet? What the---you stupid old fart! You're not supposed to mess with the planet!" She yelled, throwing her arms up, stomping over to the poor old man, who was currently shaking in fear at the small ninja's fury. Smart man.

"I---I d---didn't mean to h---harm---"

"The fact remains that you put practically a _virus_ in our _planet_. What were you thinking? Everyone with some common sense would know not to mess with the planet---hell, it's not even _human_!" Reeve said, barely keeping his voice from reaching the point of yelling. Yuffie was partly taken aback; she had never seen him this angry. Looking over to the others, she could tell instantly they were at their breaking point too. Red had all his fur standing up on end, not to mention a snarl on his lips; while Cloud's hand was inching up toward the hilt of his buster sword, a dangerous and furious expression on his face. Vincent was, surprisingly, just as easy to read for once. She could practically _feel_ the murderous aura around him, from her position feet away.

"Wait." Red's voice came out surprisingly calm, though it had a sharpened edge to it. "There's no use to kill the man---we need to know more." At this, the rest calmed as well, seeing reason. There was no use in killing the man, not now. What's done is done, Yuffie reasoned, though that doesn't make what he did any less serious.

"It can talk…? Amazing…" The doctor seemed to have recovered from his case of shakes and had whipped out a pair of round spectacles to squint in awe at Red XIII, muttering beneath his breath as Red spoke.

"Why did you do this atrocity? And how did you even manage such a thing?" Red asked in his gritty voice, tail still held high in frustration, but voice even and clam nonetheless. It was times like these Yuffie though Red was probably smarter than most humans.

The doctor questioned seemed to realize the great animal that could easily crack his skull his jaws was serious, straightened a bit, and wiped hurriedly at some invisible dirt on his glasses, before replying.

"I did it for the sake of the planet, you see. I never meant any harm."

"Yeah, well, you sure did your job well…" Yuffie remarked snidely under her breath, but was silenced by a look from Vincent.

"Yes, well, you have to believe me---I was trying to help the planet." The doctor begged, looking at each of the in turn pleadingly. "When Hojo had forced me to input you with Everlast, I found the key to the entire process, which I hadn't had back when I was a _real_ scientist." He shuffled, clearly nervous. "I soon discovered also that the massive mako-produced energy was weakening the planet. I figured out that if we kept this up, the planet would eventually be sucked dry, and who knows what would happen then. Nobody else seemed to realize this, but I knew for sure that I had to do something to try and stop ShinRa.

Blowing up a generator, like AVALANCHE did, was out of the question. I struggled for a long while on what I could do. And then I came up with the crazy idea---use Everlast to help the planet." He stopped, stumbling for words, and Reeve took this opportunity to ask one of the questions that everyone seemed to be wondering.

"But how did you do it? I thought you used Restore materia as the key compound; how would that help the planet? It already has thousands of tons of that in the form of liquid mako, not to mention the Lifestream."

The doctor nodded, "Yes, that's right. But I took specific attributes, and designed another, almost-new compound, designed to multiply the life-stream, and boost it's strengths."

"Hey!" Yuffie spoke up, raising her arm, "But the life stream is made up of peoples' and animals' spirits, right? So what, you treated the souls like the body's cells?"

The others looked impressed at her question, while the doctor shook his head. "The Lifestream is made _from_ the spirit's of life forms here, on the surface, but it is, to say, translated, into energy. This energy makes _up_ the Lifestream. The process to create the compound was quite difficult and complex, as is the actual result, but to put it simply, I gave the planet a power-surge, and gave it the ability to split the units of energy and grow."

The others nodded, pondering over the idea, while Vincent spoke again, words measured and precise as always. "As much as the idea seems possible, there was not any final end results, was there?"

The doctor nodded, "No, there wasn't. I monitored the planet as best I could, and even tried to keep track of how the ShinRa electrical plants were doing, but in the end, I found nothing. I just assumed that the project had failed, yet again, and been destroyed by the planet." He stopped, appearing to be thinking more on it. Soon he sighed and continued, " Now, though, I suspect that the whole thing is the reason the planet is, for lack of a better term, sick. In reality, it did work.

You see, the Lifestream and mako is what comes to heal wounds in the planet, correct?" The others nodded, remembering Sephiroth's plans from those years ago. "Well now it's become too obsessive, shall we say. It's deeming everything to be wounds or diseases, germs on its skin. We could say that this disease, the one that the birds and other animals, the trees even, have suffered from has been created by the planet, to wipe its surface clean."

"Like exfoliating?" Yuffie supplied, remembering Tifa's and Aeris' frequent beauty talks. Who knew they'd come in handy?

Dr. Luctient nodded, "Yes, exactly. It's getting rid of it's dead skin, except in much more drastic measures. I fear the erratic weather, was also caused by this, which affected the animals migratory patterns."

"So, what can we do about it?" Reeve asked, "There must be something. If we could stop Sephiroth, we can stop the planet from killing all of us and itself in the process."

The doctor looked helpless, shrugging, "I don't know. The Everlast is probably so advanced that there's no possible way for it to be rid of it. There's nothing." All was silent. Yuffie could barely smell the rancid odor anymore, instead looking at the many, many dead life-forms, having no problem coming up with an image of what the planet would like afterwards. If it ever stopped, she realized.

"What about Vincent?" It was Cloud who broke the silence, ironic, since he was the one always causing it. "Can we help him?"

The doctor looked up, fist at the swordsman then at the gunslinger, seeming to think for a moment before narrowing his eyes and nodding. "Yes. Mr.…?"

"Valentine." Yuffie supplied, eagerly waiting. She had almost forgotten about their original plan.

"Mr. Valentine…was implanted with an actual material that resembled a Restore. If we can get it out, it should help at least a bit. But as for the cells that already have the Everlast in them…well, we shall see." The doctor explained, "I could, if the patient is willing, operate on him now."

Yuffie's eyes widened, surprised, as did the others. Excluding Vincent of course. The crease in his brow was all that betrayed his expression, the rest of him still. Yuffie wondered if he was even breathing.

"Here? And it'd be sterilized, in correct medical procedure?" Reeve asked, a frown on his face now, suspicious.

The doctor nodded, "Of course. I have all the materials in my basement. It shouldn't take more than, say, an hour, though you'll have to be careful afterwards. It's your choice though. I've never removed the key element of Everlast from something before; I don't know what'll happen."

It seemed like ages, but eventually, Vincent nodded.

∞

Everyone had argued against it, for some reason. Vincent didn't understand them. He thought they wanted him to live? And if the Everlast in his body was just going to slowly kill it, shouldn't they want him to get the operation to at least try and remove most of it?

But no, they had debated, mostly with each other, having long ago given up with getting a response out him, about whether or not it was safe, if it was worth it, and whether or not they could actually trust the scientist. And yet, in the end, Vincent showed his stubborn streak, and gone ahead with it already.

Now, he was lying on the cold metal of the operation table, chest bare and sanitized, the doctor bustling about around him, fiddling with several machines, tubes, pans, and medical instruments, Vincent unpleasantly aware of his every move. The air smelt like medicine and rubber, reminding him of the hospital he visited in his near-unconscious state. And now here he was, again about to have another 'little' operation.

"Alright, I'm all set. I'm going to put you under, now, so…that's it, just breath. Everything will be alright." A plastic mask was placed over his mouth and nose, and soon he was breathing in the new gas, his eyesight and feelings going fuzzy, slowly losing all detail and colour, until, once again, only blackness remained.

He found he was sitting in a field, once again adorned with the scarlet cloak, contrasting with the tall yellow and green reeds and grasses that surrounded him. Dimly he remembered a faint childhood memory from his past, one of running through the thin stalks that were even taller than him, laughing and giggling, arms outstretched, bare feet hitting moist ground. That had been before Father had taken them to live in the city, closer to his work.

Now though, as he stood, he towered over the tall grass, leaving his sight free to explore the rest of his surroundings, though they were nary different. He already knew where he was, though. It was always the same in situations like these. He was in that little corner of his mind, where Chaos reigned, in more ways than one.

He had little time to wait before the familiar cold at the edge of his senses touched ground, and only a little while more to see the blackened skin, and red horns. And then even closer, and there were those horrible yellow eyes…

But something about his time was different, Vincent could tell. The air had started wavering around him, starting in the corner of his eyes, and them growing, so that as he held a hand up in front of his face, it flickered and wavered, as if underwater.

"Chaos, what are you doing to me?" He shouted at the demon, who was fifty feet and closing. He soon realized that Chaos as well was flickering badly, seeming to jump from one spot to another, closer and closer, like the frames in a movie had been cut out.

"_It's time I show you…Valentine."_ And suddenly Chaos was right there, in front of him, yellow eyes curiously watery, like he had been crying.

∞

When Vincent came to, he realized it was very hot. It was only half a second later that he heard the screaming, and another half a second until his eyes flew open. He was standing on hard-packed earth, which shuddered at the hundreds of thousands of footsteps of running people around him. No, upon, closer inspection, he realized they weren't people---they were _demons_.

He seemed to be in the courtyard of some colossal palace, which circled around on three sides. It extended up in a practically flat face on each side, though windows arched un and down in rows, allowing Vincent to see the many screaming and crying faces not only around him, but above him. Smoke poured fourth from some, fires clearly evident, while dead and alive bodies where knocked or thrown from others. The creatures (come sporting human-like features, only with horns sprouting from temples, others completely inhuman, skin mottled red or purple, eyes red and unfocused) pushed and shoved past him, eyes wild with fear, blood and sweat mixing upon their skin. It was atrocious, the sight and smell of them, but Vincent couldn't help but feel the complete, human emotion of fear waft from them, despite their looks.

Suddenly a horn blast rang through, bouncing off the walls so that it burst in to every ear, so that Vincent could feel it right through his bones. An, if possible, even louder sound followed it, this time a woman's shriek, chilling him. He was abruptly running, fast as his legs would go, shoving aside the creatures, who had frozen, paled, and then resumed running in an even more frenzied state.

Soon the crowds became thinner and thinner, allowing the lone man passage, until finally he arrived at a long set of wide stairs, a pair of huge, solid iron doors barring the way. Sprinting up the steps, Vincent ran towards the metal doors, but was suddenly stopped by a large hand.

"_Issa manginsss ssssangour."_ He looked up to see another demon, this one snake-like, with a tall, lean body leering at him, forked-tongue whipping out as he spoke. The thing seemed to be laughing at him as he said the odd words, poking at Vincent with the long spear he clutched in one clawed-hand.

"_Pronga noe yuh. Jou doujou!"_ Another had joined in, this time a large, muscular one with a bull-like head, heavy axe clutched in his hand. The large demon laughed along, snorting and throwing his head back.

Vincent glared, reaching for his Death Penalty or Cerberus, but found none. His holster was empty, as was his other pockets, he realized as he checked them. He had to get past, but without his weapons…

The matter was soon solved, though. After taking one look at the gunslinger, both demons laughed again, before walking over to the doors and grabbing the handles, pulling the heavy weights open easily, leaving just enough space for Vincent to slip through, into the dying red light beyond.

"_Issa nou murdear,"_ the snake demon said, laughing at him, "_Issa nou san doumter."_

Vincent didn't reply, a bit bewildered, though he had an idea of what they were saying to him. Instead he ran past them, trying to ignore their hissing and snorting laughter.

It was even hotter inside the doors, not to mention brighter. Looking up, he couldn't even bear to look at the sun, it was so close. He settled his eyes on what was around him, Turk instinct always obstructing human need.

He was in another courtyard, this time smaller, though, with a few burnt and blackened trees sprouting up from the hard ground, spidery branches bending low with large, red flowers. Blood decorated the ground, smeared in some places, pools of the sticky substance around bodies that had fallen and not rose. And in the middle, there was a fountain. Two demons sat there, one's head resting on the other's lap, his chest as scarlet as Vincent's cloak. The other was a woman, he realized, though she was quite clearly a demon as well. She had bright green, eyes, shedding glistening tear drops that dropped down burnt and raw cheeks, tangled black hair tumbling down her back, heavy and matted. She was by no means a royal beauty, and yet he couldn't help but feel a bit awed by her presence.

She looked up suddenly, as if directly to him, opening her mouth as if to say something, though nothing came out. Her bright eyes held an accusing, betrayed look, one of complete and absolute betrayal. Vincent stared back, but started as another demon walked right past him, the one she was apparently looking at. She shouted something at him, though again, Vincent couldn't understand.

But the man wasn't looking at her anymore. Instead, his eyes were held to the demon, round with unheard of expression. He knew those wings, the tumble of horns atop its head, the powerful form and body, the same face.

When Chaos spoke, it was low and tumbling, sounding much different from when Vincent usually heard. Instead, it almost sounded sad, and pleading. Like he was begging her.

The woman replied, reaching up to Chaos' face, though it was he how backed away. Vincent was confused. What was going on?

Now the young demon in the woman's lap spoke, voice higher and not even broken yet, the same green eyes the woman had only slits as he glared at Chaos, voice venomous and spiteful.

It was Chaos' turn to get angry now, his voice the familiar roar, the horns that trailed down his back standing straight up, wings rustling angrily. And then suddenly he stopped, instead whipping around to look back at Vincent. But Valentine had learned by now. He too turned to look at the newcomers.

There were three new demons, all bugger and bulkier than Chaos, though all held a gritty, untended look neither Chaos nor the woman had. The large one in middle of their little trio, holding a whip and leading the way, spoke authoritively to Chaos, pointing a finger and gesturing at Chaos and then the woman.

Chaos looked on defiantly, but the crack of a whip made him snap his head back to the woman, expression hidden from view. Neither said a word, though Vincent was sure they understood each other.

Chaos held up a hand, letting the nails grow even sharper and longer, saying only one more word to the woman. She nodded and gently laid the boy's head down on the smooth stone of the fountain's rim.

The demon suddenly thrust his hand forward, burying it deep within her chest, letting the blood instantly spurt out, running down over her rough brown dress, spilling into the water of the fountain, and the dirt ground.

He didn't move for a moment, but eventually retracted, his hand still clutching something. Vincent had to suppress the urge to throw-up as he confirmed that it was her heart, still beating. Chaos walked over to the closest tree, cracking off one of his own horns, and pounding it through the heart, nailing it to the tree.

And Vincent Valentine finally realized that they weren't flowers, they were hearts.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Har har har!! Vincent being oblivious once again. Hopefully you weren't too confused to keep reading! I know you probably won't know what the hell's going on with the whole Chaos thing. And just when you finally coming to understand what exactly Everlast is!

Pooey.

Anyways, hope this wasn't _too_ long to wait for an update. ;P I would've had it up at least a bit earlier today, but my computer is almost ka-put, and so I had to deal with that to get all the files off that, and onto this computer.

Sooo…hope you liked it! Please, Please, review! I LOVE them. Make my day. Review. D

Tally hoe,

Cheesynoodle

xox


	10. Chapter 10

_He didn't move for a moment, but eventually retracted, his hand still clutching something. Vincent had to suppress the urge to throw-up as he confirmed that it was her heart, still beating. Chaos walked over to the closest tree, cracking off one of his own horns, and pounding it through the heart, nailing it to the tree._

_And Vincent Valentine finally realized that they weren't flowers, they were hearts._

∞ **EVERLAST**

**Chapter Ten.**

"Will you just eat a _little?_ Leviathan above! Its just _su-gar!_ Just--- Eat it!"---Yuffie Kisaragi

Yuffie shifted in her seat, tired eyes steadily staring out the window in the dreary fog that blanketed the city. Only a few meters out, and things were already starting to disappear. Nothing moved on the normally busy street; people choosing to stay indoors, away form the clammy and cold air that leaked in under the doors, crawling towards them. It wasn't as if it was dangerous, and Yuffie could relate to them---it just wasn't a day to go out and play.

She looked morosely down at the shining materia in her cupped hands, uncommonly silent and still. Apparently this was the materia he had used for Vincent's Everlast implant. The thing he removed from Vincent's body. It had only been yesterday, and yet it seemed like so long ago. They had waited for close to two hours, which Reeve had said was fairly understandable, seeing as Dr. Luctient was the only operator, as the old lady form before silently handed them more biscuits and refilled tea cups, kindly eyes sympathetic.

Again she rolled the smooth ball in her hands, her fingers cold despite the warmth from the sphere. It was funny to think that this had come from Vincent, she thought. Granted, it hadn't really been a _real_ part of him. And yet, she played with the idea that she was holding his heart in her hands, recalling those hundreds of clichéd lines, of someone holding their heart in their hands. Yuffie supposed that this was as warm Vincent's heart would ever be.

Clutching the blanket tighter around her thin shoulders, she slowly got to her feet while setting the materia in under her blankets, leaving the warmed bed to settle her cold feet on the cold floor, movement slow, like her bones were too brittle. It was supposed to be warm this time of year, and yet here she was, always cold, huddling up to whatever warmth she could get. And it had only happened overnight; after the night they returned, the stars' cold had never left, as with the morning's breath of fog. It hung in the air, growing denser and denser. The little ninja could practically feel its weight upon her slight shoulders. Yuffie weighed the idea that it was the same as her position in life now: getting harder and harder to see by the minute.

For Yuffie was confused, lost, and alone, it seemed, not to mention tired of it all. First off, they had just found out that the damn planet was tearing itself apart, in its futile attempts to heal and purify itself. Not only this, but the same thing was happening to Vincent, even with the main source removed. Everlast was practically imbedded into his normal body systems. The doctor had even said he hadn't been able to stop it; in fact, what he had discovered was far worse than what he had hypothesized. He had warned them to keep an eye on Vincent, and make sure they knew any knew developments.

Which brought her to her next problem, one most confusing. Her feelings for Vincent. Ever since her little talk with Tifa, she'd been thinking about him more and more. And not just in a friendly, purely platonic way either. She'd caught herself thinking of him and his…attributes way too many times for her taste. And not only this, but Tifa hadn't let up, especially with the teasing. Yuffie was surprised to see her normal skin tone when you looked in the mirror, instead of the beet red from either embarrassment or anger.

And as if this wasn't enough, she was still on her self-prescribed guilt trip, on the topic of Wutai. She'd written a letter earlier that day, to Godo and the others, but she doubted it would get there any time soon, and the same with a reply. The world nowadays relied heavily on telecommunications, not the old, paper and pen postage. Whenever she sat down to watch the news for some update on it, all she got was weather reports and sorties from other places the storm had hit.

What with all this stressing out her poor brain, she had barely gotten to sleep at all last night, leading to a very tired, and very grouchy little ninja princess.

"Hey, Yuffie." The ninja returned the land of the living to find Denzel standing in front of her, staring at her hunched posture, the large blanket dragging along behind her, her hair on end, not to mention red, sleep-deprived eyes.

"What?" She snapped irritably.

Denzel seemed surprised at her bad mood, but nonetheless asked, "Cold?"

"Yes, it's frikken freezing. And if you make me stand here any longer, my toes are going to turn into ice cubes and fall off, and then I'll stick them in your little sippy-cups, huh? So move!" Denzel's eyes widened and he hurriedly stepped out of the way as she shuffled off, mildly terrorized.

Yuffie on the other hand did feel a tiny nibbling of guilt, but passed it off as hunger and made her way to the kitchen, tiptoeing down the stairs in an effort to let as little skin as possible touch the cold floor. In the front, where the bar was, she could hear the clank and clink of glasses being washed and put away. And by the lack of the usual friendly murmur of voices, it obviously wasn't booming today.

Turning the corner, she found herself in the black and white checker tiled kitchen, complete with the old, lovingly beat-up looking stove, the overhead light shining a bronzed yellow. And at the little table, made for four, sat a tall, raven-headed man, whose already pale face shone blue and flickered in the light of a computer screen.

Yuffie grunted in acknowledgement, the only way she could keep the surprise and nervousness out of her voice. Though she doubted she could talk at all with her currently tongue-tied mouth. It was just Vincent, she assured herself, no big surprise. He's just sitting at a computer. It's not like he was half-naked or anything.

Needless to say her mind had fun with that.

Yuffie hobbled over to the cupboards, unwillingly stretching to open the cupboard's doors, and grabbing the peanut butter and chocolate syrup, and then heading over to the fridge. She glanced sneakily at Vincent as she gathered the other ingredients (whipped cream, bread, banana, apple), perhaps hoping to catch a glance her way, or perhaps to make sure he _wasn't_ looking at her.

"So…" She said, ubruptly ending the silence as she plopped her materials down on the counter, proceeding to pull a few pieces of pre-sliced bread out of the package. "I'm making sandwiches. Want one?" She noticed unhappily that her voice was doing that squeaking thing, like she was a little girl.

She didn't hear an answer; so turned around, blushing as she noticed he had been staring at her. Their eyes met, his rather cold, hers suddenly bright and alive, not to mention her cheeks a sudden pink. He was the first to look away unabashedly, instead looking behind her at the condiments on the counter. Yuffie mentally screamed in frustration at his lack of human self-consciousness.

"No, thank you." He said politely. Predictable as always, Yuffie grumbled to herself.

"Well, I'll make you one anyways, just because I doubt you've had a proper sandwich sundae in a while, not to mention you _do _need some sugar in your life." She countered, grabbing another couple slices of bread. She didn't hear the gunman's response, but she could probably guess what his face looked like. After all, he only had three facial expressions.

Again the room was silent except for the sounds made by Yuffie and her quest to make the perfect bread-based sundaes. She stubbornly refused to turn around to look at him through out the entire thing, even when waiting for the bread to toast. It was sort of weird, when she thought about it, her sudden mood swings when she was around Vincent. Not to mention her nervousness. But she just dismissed it as being edgy because of lack of food.

After drizzling the chocolate syrup finally over both sandwiches' contents and slapping the closing piece of bread down on top of them (making sure to let whipped cream spray out---the fool-proof sign that there was just enough in there), she plopped them onto two of Tifa's yellow plates and carried them over to the table, where upon arriving she set them down with a clank, and proceeded to sit opposite him, firmly snuggled in her cozy blanket.

She pulled hers toward herself and picked it up, struggling to keep the contents from spilling out and onto her blanketed lap. Taking a bite, she let the sugar-themed tastes absorb through her tongue, carefully chewing and swallowing, before taking another and another. She could practically feel the buzz start from that first bite. She sighed in contentment, licking the chocolate from her lips as she looked up, preparing to take another bite.

Vincent however did not.

Yuffie stopped, lowering her sandwich onto her plate. "Can't you just try it?"

Vincent just stared at her, and then the sandwich. Too polite to say anything, too stubborn to even touch the sugary snack.

"Please? You need it!"

Vincent thought that had he been a little less dark and broody, he would have laughed at the serious tone she had while pushing the idea that he _needed_ sugar.

"Vincent! _Please?_ I made it for you…" She was starting to get whiney, in her voice. Why couldn't he just pick up the sandwich and take a bite? Geez, it's not like she was asking him to eat his liver!

"Come_ on_… Or, or else I'll…force you to eat it!" She said forcefully, flinging an accusatory finger out to point at him. The gunslinger for his part looked mildly amused, but still denied the sandwich in his silent way.

Yuffie groaned out an _Urrrgh!_ And stood up, actually walking around the table to his side, hands on her hips like a bossy mother, still only at his eyelevel when he was sitting down.

"Will you just eat a _little?_ Leviathan above! Its just _su-gar!_ Just---" Here she pulled out a finger and stuck it right into the side of the sandwich, swiping it away with chocolate and whipped cream on the end, while Vincent's mouth opened involuntarily with surprise. "Eat it!" And here she maneuvered around that damnable cloak's collar and stuck her little finger in his mouth.

And again it was silent.

It probably took about two point five seconds for the realization of what she had actually done to penetrate her thick skull. And when it finally did, you had one little ninja princess looking like she had just been left in Costa Del Sol for two weeks by herself, on the beach. Or in other words, very, very red.

She didn't remove her finger, though.

Oh no, _that_ thing needed to be set aside in one of the deepest, darkest, Vincent-vacant places in her mind for a good, long stew, before it should be acted on. But unfortunately for Yuffie, that wasn't possible for her right now. Instead, she was left torn: to pull out, or stick through it.

In all reality, the overall sensation was rather…nice. His mouth was…well, what mouths usually are like. And though, it wasn't like he was moving his tongue or anything, she had the undeniable urge to giggle. It was sort of…tickly.

Vincent wasn't moving. Though she could tell he was surprised, for his mouth was still slack-jawed, and his eyes weren't as narrow as usual. She refused to meet his eyes, instead staring at the sandwich (why had she just _have_ to make that sandwich?). If she had have been looking, she might have caught the flash of rapidly moving emotions pass through his face, his ever-piercing eyes.

Instead, she felt a soft something move to lick clean her finger, and then the rustle of fabric as a hand rose to gently take her finger away. Once he released her hand, she snatched it away, cradling it for a second before deciding to hide it behind her back, wondering if he would be offended if he saw her wipe it off.

"Err…" Yuffie didn't know what to say, if not to say anything. She'd never been this stumped. Well, what would you say, when you just force fed a broody vampire whip cream and have been letting your finger stay there for…a total of two and a half minutes, and counting. Which is quite a long time when everything around you is going in slow motion.

But something distracted her for a second: A shiny red liquid, dripping down porcelain skin.

"Oh----hey, urr, Vincent you have a, a nose bleed!" She raised a hand to help wipe it off, but figured that it might not be for the best right then (she was concerned about her blood pressure at the moment). Instead he reached up to touch it, creating an ugly smear, looking at the coated glove fingertip in surprise. Yuffie hurriedly darted over to grab a Kleenex, and handed it to him.

"Er…" She didn't really have any words at all this time. What to say? What to say? And then, lo and behold, a wondrous question came a strolling into her mind, direly late: Should she say anything at all?

Yuffie took this idea and ran with it. And said nothing at all. Instead, she silently smiled a shaky, embarrassed smile, pointed at his sandwich, and then scuttled off back to her room, forgetting her blanket.

∞

Vincent Valentine hadn't quite had a shock of this…caliber, nor category before. If this were to be measure on the Vincent-shock-o-rama scale, it'd rank a weighty six-point-oh. Which somehow made Vincent quite sad. But his mind was buzzing, though not from a sugar high, so he could barely pay that little feeling any time.

And though Yuffie didn't know, or need to know it, Vincent was probably handling the situation even worse. He could barely focus on anything; his mind was so crazed, and wasn't even feeling the blood run freely down his lips to his chin. Instead, he was still, ironically stuck in the past. Though this time it wasn't because of a woman, but more of a girl's touch.

He just couldn't get rid of it, he just kept on reminiscing that feeling. And though he figured that this was what he got after not having anything like this happen to him for over thirty years, he still didn't like it.

Not to say he hadn't _enjoyed_ the episode. No, in fact, he had been quite pleased with it---even though he was deeply disturbed to have admitted this to himself. He didn't want to become a pedophile any time soon.

So instead, he resumed what he had been working on prior to Yuffie's entrance. He always had been a workaholic.

He had been investigating the bounty hunter posting, for it still plagued his mind. He'd tried anything and everything to find out something more about the commissioner, but nothing had turned up. Even when he had asked to borrow a special WRO computer, even with a curious Reeve on hand.

Quickly pulling up the screen he had shut away when she had entered, he was back to scrolling down, scanning for a few moments before stopping to fully read the apparent response from his earlier message.

_I will tell you the details in person._

_The Crisis memorial at midday. Wear red._

_Come alone, and without any weapons._

_State your day._

Vincent pondered over this for a while, Turk training trying to pull anything at all from the wording, grammar, anything to classify this guy. But nothing made any difference. The guy obviously wanted to be sure of who he was, and was also very precautious.

Vincent clicked a button and started typing, briefly reaching over to scoop some whipped cream.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

So! Here we have Chapter 10, a shitload of FLUFF!

Upchuck bags are located to your right.

Anyway…har har har, I'm never doing fluff again. URGH…I'm gonna hurl…

But let's get on with this AU!

Sorry for the late post---I hate this sudden I-the-writing phase about midway through last week when I was going to write this chapter. And I wouldn't have today either, had I not just sat down and did it.

Next chapter will definitely be more substantial, and should be posted soon, because I have to get this done by the end of October.

Oh yeah, anyone here doing Nanowrimo this year (National Novel Writing Month)? Send me an email!

Anyhoo

Thnx for everything, and especially for reading! You guys're awesome!!

Cheesynoodle oxo

PS Is it Kisaragi? Or Kisagari? , always get it mixed up.


	11. Chapter 11

I will tell you the details in person.

The Crisis memorial at midday. Wear red.

Come alone, and without any weapons.

State your day.

_Vincent pondered over this for a while, Turk training trying to pull anything at all from the wording, grammar, anything to classify this guy. But nothing made any difference. The guy obviously wanted to be sure of who he was, and was also very precautious._

_Vincent clicked a button and started typing, briefly reaching over to scoop some whipped cream._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Eleven.**

"I've heard a lot about you. After all, you're the one we want."---Samuel Deigo

"I'm going out."

Yuffie and Tifa looked up from their dishwashing, both surprised at Vincent's statement. "But you're getting worse! I mean, just after that nosebleed yesterday," Tifa protested as Yuffie winced, the statement bringing back awkward and confusing memories, "and now your cough! What if you collapsed on the side of a road somewhere, and---and, well who knows what could happen!"

Yuffie nodded, "Besides it's almost lunch time. FOOD." She said, contributing her thinking. "Where you going that you don't want food?"

Vincent didn't answer, instead opting for a stern glance at Tifa, and then opening the front door and leaving in a swish of cloak.

"Urgh, he's so impossible." Tifa said bitterly, though Yuffie could tell she was still worried. And for a valid reason: Vincent was getting worse. Turned out that the nosebleed had only been the start of it. He'd started having coughing fits, making his body shake, and the white napkin stained red. If possible, he'd started to look even paler than usual, and she could also hear him stumbling about in the middle of the night, probably insomnia and dizziness. Things didn't seem to be looking up.

Yuffie was a bout to return to drying the wet glasses when Cloud walked in, busily chatting at the phone propped up with his shoulder next to his ear.

"Yes, he's been getting pretty bad---worse and worse. Has a bad cough, been coughing up blood. No… and I think he's a little unsteady sometimes but, you can probably guess…you never can tell with him. Never let's us in…" Cloud walked over to give Tifa a kiss (Yuffie making a face in the background), then walking over to the coffee pots, grabbing a mug and pouring a cup. "Yeah… oh, that's good. They'll be ready by…great---I can get someone to pick them up soon. Alright, bye."

"That was the doctor," Cloud said, clicking the phone off and setting it down as he sat on one of the bar stools. "I was talking to him about Vincent---"

"And?" Tifa asked impatiently.

"He said he had some medicine to help with the cough and dizziness." He took a sip of his coffee, deliberately pausing, "And they're ready to be picked up as soon as possible."

"Oh, that's great!" Tifa said, squealing a bit. Yuffie looked at her like she was an alien. "Who'll go?"

"Well I'm busy, I have to take Denzel to a friend's, and do a quick delivery. Should be back by… four?" Cloud answered, "And I think Barret and Cid disappeared off some where, so that leaves…Yuffie."

Said ninja rolled her eyes, used to this type of thing by now. "Alright, Alright, I'll go…but can I take your motorcycle?" She asked quickly, eyes hopefully.

Cloud snorted, "No… and not the car, either." He added as he saw Yuffie's mouth open again.

"Well then how am I supposed to get there? It's across town!" she whined. "I am _so_ not walking."

Cloud rolled his eyes as Tifa looked at the pair, amused. "Just catch the bus at the square." She said to Yuffie, "Oh, and would you pick up some milk on your way home? We're on our last bag."

Grumbling under her breath, Yuffie sluggidly drifted out the door, making sure to grab a bulging wallet from somebody's coat on her way. She sure as hell wasn't paying for _milk_ with her money.

∞

Meanwhile, Vincent had exited Seventh Heaven and entered the outside world, the weather suddenly hot yet humid, making a fine sheen of sweat start on his forehead. He'd quickly strode down a few streets, being sure to walk in the shade, as well as keeping his gun hidden from view.

The square was bustling, as always, when he arrived. People carelessly walked in front of the cars that were stupid enough to entire into the mass, while others shopped and shouted at the boutiques set up along the way. The informant had chosen a good place---the square was always at it's busiest this time of day, and red among the drab colours of the people's clothes stood out drastically. People generally gave him only small glances of wonder at the sight of him, though they were used to seeing some of the oddest things. Vincent himself was marginally glad for this; it didn't help any for people to start making a scene.

After reaching the monument and standing for a while, he soon chose to sit down in the little shade cast by the large sculpture. The sun was getting to even him. He quietly observed the people that walked briskly by, avoiding their curious eyes, and yet at the same time effectively scrutinizing them. He had always wondered whether anyone besides AVALANCHE knew the _entire_ story. He wasn't even sure if he himself knew it all. For it was quite a long tale to tell.

But nonetheless, those that did have a faint idea of their trials had praised them repeatedly, especially after Kadaj and his gang came and went. The Crisis monument that had been built prior and then torn down by the rogue Bahamut had been quickly repaired, the fountain surrounding created for well-wishing. The gunslinger himself had never really seen the point in wishing for something while throwing a gil coin in, or even wishing on a fallen star. Nothing happened nor would happen. It didn't make any difference; things are as the way they were.

A usually quite quiet part of his mind spoke to him now, telling him to think of what Aeris would say, and what he _really_ thought of it. It was to give people some hope, that things would change simply by giving out unwanted change, or simply closing one's eyes and whispering into the cold night's air. Vincent looked down behind him in his seat, glancing at the hundreds of shiny gil that rested at the bottom, slowly growing more rusted and greener with time. The bottom was shiny and metallic with them scattered thickly over it, making him wonder how many wished and dreams had been tied to them and cast away. It would have been quite a lot.

"Are you here for information?" a gritty voice brought him back from his thoughts, the gunslinger's eyes narrowing at the thought that this stranger had been able to get so close without him noticing. He really must be sick.

Vincent nodded, but did not speak; instead busy marking every single detail the man had into his mind. The man was tall, though not as tall as Vincent, with a lanky frame, though muscles were clear. He wore boots that crunched the gravel beneath his feet, loose camo-cargos and a dirty wife-beater covered by an equally dirty vest with fur round the hood, a necklace with a cross attached, and aviator sunglasses perched on his nose. The man looked like he could be I the army, or a position of equal firearms numbers. And indeed, upon noticing what Vincent was doing, the man smirked cockily and pulled a side of the open vest to reveal a gun holstered to his side.

Vincent shoed no outer reaction, though he had already simply assumed that the messenger would be carrying firearms. "Who are you?"

The man sniffed mockingly, " 'Who am I?' Why, shouldn't I be asking the same of you? Oh, wait; I already know who you are. Vincent Valentine, I presume?"

Vincent only narrowed his eyes, rather uncomfortable with the man already knowing who he was. Not to say a fair many people didn't, after being involved with AVALANCHE, but few spoke to him with such familiarity.

"I've heard a lot about you. After all, you're the one we want."

Now they were at a standstill, Vincent presumed. A fight was imminent, for neither were willing to let the other go, nor were they about to go quietly with the other. Of course, Vincent didn't really want to break out into a brawl in the middle of the square, at the busiest time of day. And so it was up to either to make the first move.

Enter in Yuffie.

Yuffie Kisaragi had just been about to scream in frustration at not being able to find the appropriate bus for her travels, and the lack of patience everyone she asked for directions had had, when she had caught sight of that familiar red cloak.

After all, it really did stand out.

And so up she came, prancing up to Vincent and the (rather attractive in a scruffy kind of way) stranger, intent on being introduced and convincing Vincent to take her to the doctor's himself. He might as well come himself to get his own damn medicine.

"Heya, Vinnie! Whatcha doin? Who's this?" She let out happily, unaware of the charged atmosphere and tension in the gunslinger, and the odd, relaxed stance of the other's.

"Yuffie, get behind me," He immediately said, shoving he behind him as he did so. Yuffie's elatedness poofed and died. If Vincent was this cautious of the stranger, he obviously wasn't a good one.

This, however, was one of the first mistakes Vincent was to make. The stranger, upon seeing how the emotionless gunslinger had acted once the girl had come up, now knew Yuffie's safety was of importance to him. Which, as all things people care for, makes good leverage.

Indeed, in under a second the strange man had whipped out his gun, setting things into motion. First, Vincent pulled Death Penalty from his holster equally as quick, if not quicker, immediately pointing it directly at the man's forehead. However, at the same time, two men from the moving crowd sudden appeared to point another pistol at Vincent's head, but not before shooting it into the air, and the other to immediately restrain Yuffie, knife held to suddenly white neck.

It was not necessarily the sight of the guns that sent the people running, but the crack of the gunshot's noise. The reaction was instantaneous, people screaming and running as fast as they could to get away from the sudden danger. People tripped over one another, packages and bags dropped in the hurry, frightened white faces flashing past as they ran to the nearest exit out of the square.

The man holding Yuffie captive started dragging her towards the nearest alleyway, joining the crowd. Vincent growled quietly under his high collar, as Yuffie was soon lost from his peripheral vision. He knew they didn't want her, but they would take her if they didn't get him.

"So now will you come with us?" The man standing in front of him said, voice haughtily amused. Both knew they were at another standstill, this one to be decided by a decision.

And so Vincent lowered his gun.

∞

Yuffie, for her part, was in a tight situation. The man still had her pressed against him, a most certainly sharp knife poised at exactly the right angle to slit her throat if she moved too much. These guys knew what they were doing, unlike the last ones. Yuffie took half a second to reminisce over the other bounty hunters. Yes, she was certain these ones were quite different. Probably professionals---and they knew how to do their job.

Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't just as good at hers. Her hands weren't tied, though she was sure he'd get around to it as soon as possible, so she had access to her range of weapons that were stuffed in her shorts.

They were almost at the narrow gap in between the buildings, though people jostled them harshly, making her strain to keep her neck from touching the knife at all, desperately hoping that someone didn't knock his arm and accidentally slit her open. But she used this to her advantage, slipping a hand into her side pocket to pull out a small ring of wood, and slipping it onto her two middle fingers, thankful for not dropping it.

Soon they had reached the dark and stinky alleyway, the man wrestling her down a good portion of its length until the sounds from the square seemed only echoes of their true selves. The man threw her down on the ground, and for a moment the painful though came to mind of whether or not he had something else in mind. But that disappeared as soon as she saw him reach inside his jacket, only to pull out a syringe. Pulling off the cap with the gun-holding hand (his left, she noted), he squirted a bit of the liquid out, testing. Satisfied, he neared her, the ninja herself staying still to the bone if not shaking at least a little, apparently petrified.

But he was wrong. As soon as he had come close enough, she sung her left hand with the ring on it up quick as lightning to press the sharp tip of the ring into one of his pressure points below the neck, effectively paralyzing his gun-arm. She hurriedly rolled to the side to avoid his other waving arm, hurriedly reaching for another aim at the rest of his pressure points.

She hadn't counted on him being ambidextrous, though. Just as fast as she was in escaping to hit again, he was as quick in snatching up the gun with his right hand, and swinging it around to shoot.

The noise came first, and then the blinding pain. She fell over in a heap, which only made her leg hurt worse, if that made any difference. She guessed her pain centers had pretty much hit their max level, and so any more wouldn't make any real difference. That being said, she was literally in a world of pain. Her vision swam before her, her eyes instantly tearing up in response to the searing pain. The pain itself was so immense; she could not relate it to anything else she had ever experienced before. It was simply _pain_, no poking pins or needles, no burning. The pain took her in and held her there, trapped her for what seemed like such a long time, that she doubted she would ever feel anything else again. All that her mind registered was the pain, pain, and more pain.

She dimly heard the man say something in a gruff voice before her sight went black before he eyes could even close, and another distant gunshot sound.

∞

Bang.

Bang-bang-bang.

Bang.

Bang-bang.

The two traded shots, the other using considerably more bullets than Vincent, though neither seemed to ever hit their mark. Both had developed the habit of twisting out of the way just in time, jumping and flipping in smooth graceful movements, seeming to match each other in strength and ability.

"You're good!" The man shouted, grinning flippantly, diving off another roof to avoid a shot from Vincent as he flipped in midair, feet landing on a scratched and beaten window, before leaping off, the glass barely cracking. "Very good!" He amended, leaping up and above Vincent as he sprung at him.

The pale man soon joined him in the air, taking the other by surprise as the taller of the two grabbed hold of his collar and flung him up wards, higher than ever before, shooting straight up. The other man however saw this coming, and brought his gun's side to block the bullet, a _cling_ ringing out.

And then both were falling, deflecting each other's bullets with their guns, or just plain twisting away. Vincent's feet barely had time to touch the ground before he was up again, dueling with the man, using both his gun and his claw at close range. And yet the man survived even through this, grabbing Vincent's wide shoulders and flipping himself straight over his head, back arching as his strong grip threatened to hurl Vincent towards the side of a brick building. Vincent, however, threw a shot over his shoulder, while twisting his body to the side, again grabbing the other man's jacket as he rounded his front, carrying the momentum through to throw the other to the ground.

The fall was fast and hard, the stranger's back hitting the pavement with a sickening crunch, the cobblestones cracking and lifting up with the sudden force, a cloud of dust blowing up. Vincent landed softly in the shadows a few feet away, taking the time to switch his Death Penalty for Cerberus, leveling it quickly.

There happened a pause, where neither moved, the dust slowly settling, Vincent fighting to keep his vision clear. He could feel the toll of the sickness, his stamina greatly decreased so that he was left panting, his sides aching with the strain. No ordinary man could have survived that, Vincent reasoned with himself. Though the man had proven to be more than ordinary. Vincent's thoughts were suddenly flung to think of Yuffie, hoping he could trust her skills to get out of there alive. Vincent made a second mistake by letting his thoughts go, suddenly flowing fast with images of what could, might of, happened to Yuffie, and so missed what happened next.

There was stir of movement, and then the cracking and popping of joints falling back into place, and then the other man was rising, raising a hand to wipe away a trickle of blood from his mouth.

Vincent's eyes widened, but quickly narrowed as he saw the man's next actions. The pair of reflective sunglasses the man had been wearing had cracked, throwing taunting glints of sharp sunlight in his direction, until the man reached up, slowly taking them off to reveal glowing green eyes.

Mako-induced, Vincent quickly deducted, but he'd never seen anything like these before. They were lit up like Christmas lights, so bright they were. Even Cloud's, maybe even Sephiroth's, had been dimmer in comparison.

The Valentine had barely any time before the man was darting, even quicker than before, straight at him, dodging when Vincent shot a full round at him, darting too fast for Vincent to track, let alone the human eye.

And then all of a sudden the man was in front of him, leveling the gun straight at his heart, and shooting.

Strike three.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Cue ultimate SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Woah, chapter ELEVEN. Wow. Course, I think after the original five, the surprise has sort of worn off. Only three more to go!!!

Well, hoped everyone enjoyed this chapter, which was bringing back the oldies! I.e. my original action-packed storyline. Yay! So much fun to write, even though it took four days.

I also hope that everyone clued into the fact that the previous chapter's nosebleed was caused by Vincent's disease. XD Whooops, meant to mention that one.

Thank you thank you thank you guys for the 50+ reviews! Much appreciated! Cookies ta everyone one of ya!

Toodeloo!

Cheesynoodle

PS Sorry to leave you hanging 3


	12. Chapter 12

_The Valentine had barely any time before the man was darting, even quicker than before, straight at him, dodging when Vincent shot a full round at him, darting too fast for Vincent to track, let alone the human eye._

_And then all of a sudden the man was in front of him, leveling the gun straight at his heart, and shooting._

_Strike three._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Twelve.**

"_They marched across my land, burning everything in their path until you could not see the moon's distant glow through the black smoke, nor smell anything other than the smell of burning flesh and green. The fires cast the red light upon us, burned our eyes even from a distance."_---Chaos

Vincent woke with a pounding headache, an intense heat the seemed to surround him, and an overly sore body. It only took a couple of seconds for the nausea to set in, and he rushed to turn over onto his side and spill his stomach contents. He grimaced once he was done, both from the dulling pain and the stench. He wormed his way over a few feet away, before resting his head on the wet pavement beneath his body.

Why was he here? Where was he? Why did his chest hurt so much? Questions flew around his head, shouting and bouncing off each other, causing so much distress for the drugged gunman that he groaned, rolling over onto his side. He lay there for a good ten minutes, seeking the cool wetness of the hard floor to ease his ripped mind, to bring a little sense into his world.

Finally, he cleared his mind, remembering that meditative state Yuffie had once explained to him when he caught her meditating. She had been sitting on the cold outcrop of rock on one of the mountains near the Northern Crater, right before the incident of Aerith's death in the City of Ancients. Just sitting there, not moving an inch, even with the howling wind and snow whipping about her tiny frame. She'd taken off the huge fur coat and leggings the climber had given her, so that she was only in her usual shorts and vest. He had come back down from his position, asking her in his silent way what exactly she thought she was doing. She had given him an explanation, full of her quirky slang and similes. When asked why she wasn't wearing the coat, she replied that she had been too hot.

Now he sought the same escape, away from all the questions, thoughts, pictures, and sounds his mind was forcing upon him. And soon he came to some state of mind where he could think freely again.

He first checked himself for any weapons, any way to defend himself. There was none. He next quickly searched the room from his spot on the floor (he had now sat up), and concluded that he was in a relatively safe location, and there was nothing else alive around him. Only after this, did he check himself for damage.

He could tell he was at least a bit feverish, resulting in dizziness and nausea, not to mention a pounding headache. He could tell he'd have some bad bruising over his torso and limbs, probably from being rough-handed. But then there was that horrible throb in his chest. He pulled up his shirt to find the area around a small puncture wound a flaming red, with white around the actual wound. The skin was sensitive to touch around it, though the puncture wasn't very large. Poison dart? Vincent surmised, looking down grimly. It'd explain why he had the fever and headaches. So they weren't planning to take him to wherever he was now, conscious. Makes sense. He should have known.

He turned his mind back to his surroundings, ignoring the wheedling thought that questioned how Yuffie was. He was both angry and relieved she had been there. Maybe they'd be able to find where he was with her. Perhaps she had managed toe restrain the man; maybe then they'd know more than he. But he stopped before he got ahead of himself---he wasn't planning to stay long anyways.

His cell said otherwise, though. Anyone could tell that easily. He was in a space only more than a few feet wide, with thick, iron bars across the wall that wasn't moldy stone. The air was moist, as was the floor and walls, dripping with condensation. Distantly he could hear and echo of rushing waters, probably carried by tunnels. And by the odd, rank smell that drifted on the air, he could guess that he was in the sewers. Indeed, by looking out through the cell bars he could see a dip in the concrete floor, though there was no rushing water in it. It was possible that he was under Midgar, instead of Edge, he proposed, that would explain why there wasn't any water near him. Nobody lived in Midgar anymore, or at least wasn't supposed to, and so the sewer systems had been shut down. The only use they were of now was to drain excess rainwater. Of course, it hadn't rained in days, so they were as dry as land. He could see his cell had been built into the wall of a tunnel, by the minimal light the flickering bulbs on the wall gave out. Again, odd enough that there'd be lights down here, even odder that they were still in use.

Sighing, Vincent lowered himself into one of the least wet corners, and settled down to wait for someone, or some stroke of genius on his part. But the longer he crouched, the more tired he became, his aching body, sore all over. Soon the drip somewhere near him became as soothing as the distant sound of running water, and his eyelids fell, casting black into his vision.

∞

"_Wake, host."_ Vincent heard a guttural voice say, though it was muffled and echoing as if far away. "_Wake _up, _host!"_ He could suddenly feel himself jerked forward, his eyes snapping open, a tiny startled gasp emitted as he realized he was face to face with Chaos. The demon's yellow eyes were glossy and bright amid the colorless landscape, his black skin contrasting harshly.

"_I need you to know. You need to know."_ The demon seemed almost distressed, in the impatient way he was speaking. His tail kept on twisting, and he kept ruffling his wings like Vincent seen birds do.

"Know what?" Vincent inquired, eyes narrowed. He didn't want another trip to wherever that place had been, where he had seen Chaos. Though he suspected that this had something to do with that journey.

"_Did you not learn anything, you foolish human?"_ Chaos snarled, though he stopped the nervous habits for a bit, perhaps comforted by the familiarness of insulting Vincent.

Vincent however ignored this, "You weren't very clear. Tell me, this time." He said flatly.

Chaos growled and threw him down, storming away a little more. The air around them heated a bit, so that Vincent had to cover his chapped lips and nose behind his collar, and squint his dry eyes against it. The gunman waited for a while, letting Chaos calm himself, the temperature going back down to its normal chilling cold, before asking, "Why did you kill that woman?"

Chaos seemed to be angered jut by this, but didn't raise a fist, thankfully. Instead he ground out, _"That's not what happened…"_ He stopped, apparently thinking back.

"So that was your past?"

"_Yes…"_

"Then why did you show me it? Why do I need to know?" Vincent prodded. He knew Chaos wanted to tell him something, for him to understand. And until he knew, he wasn't going to be going back to the real world. "Explain."

Chaos heaved a sigh, uncharacteristically saddened and solemn. He looked like he wasn't there, probably instead back revisiting memory, in his unseen world. Vincent wondered if this is what he looked like most of the time.

When Chaos spoke, his grinding voice was low, yet harsh, and laden with several emotions, the most potent being that of guilt.

"_I was the underlord ruler of Hell, as you humans call it. I ruled fairly and peacefully as a lord, for many eons. My city and lands were prosperous, as were my people, and we survived through many wars together. However, there came a day when foreigners from a distant realm came, bearing goods and high priced treaties, boasting of a better, newer life, of pleasures and ease. There would be no work to be done, instead it would be done for thee, with slaves. _

_I did not agree with this way of life. If we gave up ourselves to them, how did we know we would not be turned into slaves for them? I refused to sign their treaties, to drink and eat their wine and food, denied their promises of wealth and fame that equaled that of our king._

_However, behind their back they had the force of a giant army, even bigger than mine. They would surely crush us, if we did not consent._

_We were divided, our people. Some wished to give in to their easy way of life, hand heir fate over to the intruders. And then others wished to stay and fight them, despite the ugly odds."_

He paused, eyes clouded and partly hidden by the lank locks of black hair that fell. Vincent on his part stayed silent, calm and focused, waiting for him to begin again. When he did, it was with a bitter sadness that turned the air misty and cold, sweeping over the gunslinger and seeming to settle down onto his very frame, muffling Chaos' voice to a whisper.

"_My people betrayed me, as I betrayed them. I had vowed to keep peace and fair leadership for my life's time on the throne. But I did not. I decided to refuse them, and told them to leave my land immediately. I was naive and foolish._

_They declared war. _

_My people… there were those that stayed by me in my decision. And yet others that said I was foolish and dumb, that I could not see beyond my own wall of wealth and riches. That I was afraid of not being the only kingly one there._

_So they joined the opposing side. I do not know what happened to them in the end, but most likely they were used as the front-lines or slaves."_

Vincent knew that the front lines were usually the ones who sustained the most damage, being the first ones up against the enemy, the lab rats of the army. He had seen men from the front lines of wars come back with a missing limb or two, or a severe disability that made them useless to the army. The one-timers. It was not a desirable fate, to say the least.

"_My remaining people prepared for months, securing the palace and city with strong walls and barricades. Our smithies forged weapons and armor through the day and night, our women stocked food and drink in mountains. Days passed to weeks, weeks to months, until we had waited for five years. We had lived in fear and anger, in doubt and paranoia. The other side made no move, even when our seekers were in range. Our existence was probably more terrified than that of when they struck._

_It happened on Hallow's Eve, upon the third hour. They marched across my land, burning everything in their path until you could not see the moon's distant glow through the black smoke, nor smell anything other than the smell of burning flesh and green. The fires cast the red light upon us, burned our eyes even from a distance._

_The fight was short, though many on both sides were slaughtered and killed. It lasted through the night and day, until finally, as the glow of the suns set, their Lord met with me."_

Chaos' eyes seemed to harden and freeze, a snarl portrayed fiercely on his lips.

"_He was fat with food, and glittered with petty rocks and metals. He nary carried a weapon. And yet he came to me, demanding my surrender, and my kingdom. He strived to strip me of all that I had, to demote me in front of my people, and my King. And so he demanded my love, as well._

_Chililah refused. She… said she would rather die before becoming one of his whores. This angered the Lord. He said, 'Then your lover would kill you, instead of coming to live with me at my palace?' _

_Chililah agreed. She begged me, that if she was to go with him, to take her heart and keep it forever."_

Chaos stopped, eyes lowered in remorse. Things were quiet for some minutes, neither saying anything. Eventually Vincent spoke up, asking, "Why do I need to know this, though?" He wished to be neither cold nor unfeeling, but simply to ask why Chaos had told all this to him.

"_To know. To learn."_ Chaos said shortly. _"Be ready, host."_ He added with finality.

And sure enough, soon Vincent's world fuzzed and blacked, quietly slipping out of his grasp.

∞

"Get up."

Vincent's eyes slide open, revealing his odd crimson orbs, gleaming in the minimal light. The same man from before, wearing a new pair of sunglasses was just outside his cell, holding the now open door, smoking a cigarette and tapping a foot impatiently.

"Well, I said get up!" The man commanded again, his voice barking angrily as it echoed against the walls. Vincent slowly stood up, careful of strained muscles and joints, standing to his full height. The man gestured for him to follow him, walking down to the left, waiting for him to catch up before continuing.

"You're not going to bind me?" Vincent asked, rather amused, as they continued to walk down a maze of tunnels, the man in front occasionally kicking away a rat that was too curious.

"Ugh, I hate rats. They're so useless…" Vincent heard him mutter, an expression of disgust marring his handsome face. "And no, I'm not cuffing you. What would be the point? I could catch you before you even started to run." He answered cockily.

They continued for a good fifteen minutes, the lights along the wall becoming more and more vibrant, flickering less in the dark. The tunnels becoming larger and larger, so that there were small, narrow flat sidewalks on either side. Soon the man climbed up onto one, gesturing for Vincent to climb up the ladder beside him first. Vincent did so, easily climbing up the vertical expanse, and through a small opening at the top. He stepped a little farther away, allowing the other man to climb up, while scanning the room. The other man gestured to one of the several tunnels on the far wall, and proceeded after Vincent.

Soon the emerged into another room, this one large and expansive, with domed ceilings arching high above them, make-shift pews set up in rows, facing a stage at the front, which was surrounded by carefully carved statues depicting ugly, horned and multi-faced demons with weapons in hand, along with several bloodied and torn angels falling to the ground. Vincent's eyes were drawn from the stonework to a sudden rustle of movement, center stage.

An old man stood there, form hunched over, shaking ever so slightly, draped in loose folds of old brown fabric, a hood covering his balding head.

"Ah, Samuel, you've brought Mr. Valentine. Good, good. Bring him over here. You know what you need to do." The old man's voice was loud and clear, as was the maniac smile adorning his old and wrinkled features. The man from before, Samuel, gestured for him to go over, to stand in front of the old man. Vincent did so, sweeping down the rows upon rows of stone and wood pews, until he came to stand a few feet away from the lip of the stage, solemn and stony faced.

The older man's lips curled at the edges as he rubbed his hands together, for all the life of him looking like an old, grubby businessman.

"Welcome, Vincent Valentine, to our humble abode." He seemed to find this funny, for he laughed uproariously. The old man was clearly crackers, as he was sure Yuffie would say. Vincent waited for him to say anything else, but the man simply looked at him like a juicy piece of meat and didn't say anything.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The old man laughed again, "I was wondering when you would ask that!" He said gleefully. He hobbled over to the podium, flipping open a large bound volume, dust puffing up into the air as he did so. "My assistant brought you here so I could extract something from you. Something…precious." Again he laughed manically, while Vincent pondered over why Yuffie was the first thing that came to mind. "I want your power. I want… Chaos!"

Vincent was momentarily stunned. What he had expected he couldn't say, but Chaos was far from it. Questioned raced through, one particular one being, "How did you know?"

The man chuckled, "That doesn't matter now. Samuel! Bring out the materials!" He called. Vincent looked behind him, bewildered, as several clunking noises echoed. Soon a large wooden chair, looking like those that electric executions were executed on, was dragged into view, through one of the doors at the sides, Samuel lugging it toward them.

"I want Chaos. I want that lovely, delicious _power_, to crush a man with one hand, to kill hundreds at a time. I want to rule the world!" The man laughed loudly overtop of the clunking of the chair coming closer and closer, though he suddenly stopped, seeming to curl into himself. "I…I don't want to die." He whimpered childishly. Vincent was dumbfounded. This was man was beyond crackers…

The old man suddenly stopped, looking up at Vincent once again, that smile back on his face. He looked down at the book in front of him, as he started chanting something, the language unknown, of nothing he had ever heard, not even the Ancient's language. Vincent tried to move, and yet suddenly found he couldn't. "Wh…What are… you …doing?" Vincent demanded, fighting to keep at least his mouth moving. But he couldn't; even that was slowly locking in place, becoming numb as the rest of his body.

The old man stopped his chanting, though the numb, immobile feeling didn't go away. "To put it simply, I'm going to exorcize you!" He said happily. He flipped to another page, finger scaling down the page to find the appropriate part, while he called out, "Samuel, draw the pentagram and strap him in."

Vincent heard Samuel behind him move the chair so that it was directly behind, before the man hit the backs of his knees forcefully, forcing him to buckle, landing in the seat. He was shoved back further, his arms and legs placed in the respective buckles as Samuel tightened them. He disappeared for a moment, before coming back into Vincent's line of vision, with a large mirror, leaning it against the podium on the stage, so that Vincent could see himself. He then proceeded to quickly draw a large circle around him with white chalk with man complex details, making sure not to smudge the white substance. Once finished, he walked back over to Vincent, taking a knife out of his pant pocket, and slitting a cut on each of Vincent's palms. Vincent didn't flinch in the slightest----he couldn't feel it at all.

The old man at the front smiled once again, before taking a deep breath and reading out a different passage of the same language.

The effect was different now. Vincent could suddenly move and feel again, though he wished it were not so. A hot flame of heat lashed through his body, feeling as if he were actually burning. He could feel his damp clothes sizzle and blacken in places. He struggled in his bounds, writhing furiously, shaking the chair and making its legs rattle against the floor. He found his eyes drawn to the mirror, and found that once he did he couldn't look away. And was startled to find they were a deep, impenetrable black. His skin grayed and darkened as well, and as when he transformed into Chaos, his eyeteeth lengthened and sharpened as well, horns sprouting out of his head as his hair joined them, changing into boney sharp horns the ripped out of his spine. As he watched, his eyes were suddenly pierced by yellow, the bright colour mixing with an unseen red to make a brutal orange.

The old priest seemed angered by this; apparently it wasn't going according to plan. His voice rose, becoming more commanding, as Vincent suddenly felt that white hot pain leaving him, leaving him cold and shivering, numb once again, though this time in a deep pit of isolation, deserted. His eyesight wavered before him, everything taking on an odd, orange-brownish hue before it faded to simple black and white.

He tore his eyes from the mirror now; his features still the same, to find the old man wasn't at the pew anymore. He was instead writhing on the floor, screaming horrible, horrible echoing screams of pain. Samuel was by him, hands outstretched, though he looked too frightened to reach out to touch him. He started screaming too, as a large clawed hand burst out of the Priest's chest, splattering blood out everywhere. The hand grappled to find something to hold onto, but upon finding none, receded.

The Priest's body started to change, then. Loud snap and pops and cracks of bones were heard along with his screams of agony. His skin didn't darken, but lightened to a bone-like white, his eyes a sudden black. Red spirals broke out in his skin, trailing up the sudden bones that sprang out of his back, presumably elongated vertebrae. His face by now had sprung forward, his skull reshaping to a dog-like snout, teeth jutting out, already bloodied.

The new Chaos leapt forward and roared, shaking the very stone beneath his feet.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Woooot! Only…**three** more chapter to go! Halleluijah!

Hope you liked that---ooo… we've finally started on our grand finale, fireworks-go-off, people-screaming, ending!!!! Sa-weeeeet!

Anyways…thanks for the continued reviews XD Love 'em!!

Expect tons of frequent updates, since I'm seriously rushing to get this done befor the beginning of November. At which I'm supposed to keep on writing 1667 words per day… TTATT Urg, I'm going to be written-out! , 

Lol, had tons of fun writing the old, insame priest's part. I love him! He's such a dork XD an got lots of sequal ideas while writing Chaos' little (huge) monologue part , 

Which probably won't happen x)

And finally…a HUGE THANK YOU! For getting me nominated for the Genisis Awards, Pied-flatcher!! Thank you Thank you Thank you!

D forever yours, (as long as you keep reviewing)

cheesynoodle XD


	13. Chapter 13

_The Priest's body started to change, then. Loud snap and pops and cracks of bones were heard along with his screams of agony. His skin didn't darken, but lightened to a bone-like white, his eyes a sudden black. Red spirals broke out in his skin, trailing up the sudden bones that sprang out of his back, presumably elongated vertebrae. His face by now had sprung forward, his skull reshaping to a dog-like snout, teeth jutting out, already bloodied._

_The new Chaos leapt forward and roared, shaking the very stone beneath his feet._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Thirteen.**

"He shot me. The stupid, pooh-head."---Yuffie Kisaragi

Yuffie groaned once, then tried to open her eyes.

Big mistake.

"ARRRGH!" She grunted as she found a bright light shining down on her. She tried pulling her arms up to shield her eyes, but it was only after a moment or two of struggling with the simple motion did she succeed. She murmured a muffled grunt again as she felt the effects of her afternoon take toll of her body---she felt like several muscles were pulled, her body was probably black and blue, and her leg was hurting like a bitch.

Around her she could hear noises, though they were partly muffled. They seemed to be anxious; one a female, a few others pitched lower, mens. She shifted her hands delicately so that she reached towards her ears, but found a rough, woven piece of gauze covering them again. Yuffie squeaked slightly, surprised. What had happened to her? Oh right---the man that Vincent was with, and then the others…the alley and the shot.

Again her eyes flew open, though this time she squinted fiercely against the light, flinger clawing at the bandages as well, desperate to see where she was, and who those people were. Soon the bright light died down so that she could see that it was in fact just an overhead light with a fan, just like the one in Tifa and Cloud's living room.

"…Tiff?"

A loud squeal erupted by her ear, and she saw a blur of brown and white whip out to crush her in a hug, the worried bar tender yattering on in her ear, " …Oh Yuffie----I thought'd you never wake up! Oh, don't you do that again! We just found you there, lying all alone and bloody---ugh, what happened?"

Yuffie coughed a bit after attempting a laugh, pushing the older woman away gently, "…I…I'm fine, Tifa---" Yuffie coughed a bit more to get her voice back, "How'd you guys find me?"

Cloud stepped into her vision, and she finally realized that everyone was there, Cid, Barret, Cloud, Red XIII, Cait, Tifa, surrounding her while she lay on the comfy couch that smelled faintly of cigarettes, oil, and leather, while a freshly-baked cookie smell hung deliciously in the air. "It was Red XIII---he'd gone out to check a store for something when he heard all the commotion in the Main Square."

Red XIII nodded, "I suddenly smelled your blood, so I knew something was wrong." Yuffie giggled and smiled happily as the large beast nuzzled her outstretched hand affectionately, comforting her. "But yes; what did happen?" Red asked solemnly.

Yuffie sighed and made a face, attempting to recall everything again. Nearby her, Tifa sat by her legs, rubbing the one that had been shot. Yuffie smiled in thanks at the woman, who explained, "We used Cure on you. This time it worked, thankfully."

"Come on, 'foo, tell us what ya did this time!" Barret said in his 'inside voice' as Marlene called it, which was just below his normal shouting level.

Yuffie waved him off, "I was going to get the medicine, eh? The drugs for Vinnie. Anyways, I saw him at the Fountain, talking with a man. I said 'hi', but Vinnie shoved me behind him. The guy whipped out a gun, while two other guys came outta nowhere, and one grabbed me!" She said, gesturing wildly, her voice's volume increasing dramatically. A light shone in her eyes, a grin stretched across her face.

"The bastard dragged me down the alley, then took out this weird needle, full o' stuff. He tried to stab me with it, but I pulled my super-duper ninja skillz, no. 78, on him, and paralyzed him!" She spread her arms wide, pausing to see her audience's enraptured faces.

"And then what?" Cid harrumphed impatiently, a cigarette still held between his lips, though not lit.

"He shot me." She ended flatly, making a face. "The stupid, pooh-head."

The others were silent for a minute, before Yuffie spoke up again, finally realizing someone was missing. "Hey---where's Vince?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Vincent? We don't know. He wasn't there when we found you." Tifa said, shrugging, though a worried frown was back on her face.

Cloud nodded, "He hasn't come back."

Yuffie stared with her big eyes, "Vincent's not here…?" She paused, before springing out, and onto the coffee table, striking a pose, "Than we must find him!

But not before cookies."

∞

They had been searching for what seemed like hours, and still, no luck. They had started almost immediately, even though the sun had already started going down. Now it was night, and although the city lights polluted the air with clear white, energy-efficient bulbs, it still didn't reach the crevices and corners where she was certain Vincent would be. It was pretty obvious than he had been taken by the men she had briefly met earlier, though how they would have overpowered him she didn't want to know.

Again she looked up to the dark sky, looking for the fifth time in the past few minutes, wishing to see the signal flare of lightning materia. And still, nothing came.

They had split up from the Crisis Memorial Square, going off in pairs, Cloud and Tifa and Cait (Reeve was helping back at WRO HQ), Barret and Cid, and Red XIII and her. She was currently following the dim crimson figure of the large canine, which was a bit ahead of her. They had been following Vincent's scent for quite a while, as it bounced through alleyways and several rundown buildings, heading deeper into Midgar. Yuffie had called on her cell to the others a few times, updating them as they moved foreword, the rest spreading out in a fan to be sure not to miss anything.

Up ahead, Red waved his bright tail a bit, signaling her to catch up. Once Yuffie was beside him, he said, "His scent is getting fresher and fresher, but we must hurry---it will rain quite soon. I will lose the scent from it---the fog and moisture plugs up my nose."

Yuffie refrained from giggling at this, and instead asked, "Is this the storm that the weather people were talking about?" She glanced upwards at the clouded sky, which wouldn't even break for the moon, nor the tiny stars. But from the updraft of the city lights she could see it was bloated and heavy looking, as distant sounds of thunder grumbled out of them, its fat belly of rain waiting for the perfect moment to release.

"Hurry, this way!" Red called from ahead, while Yuffie jogged after, continuing their search.

Indeed, it was only a few more minutes before the first drip-drops of rain pelted Yuffie's nose and head, sizzling against Red's hot tail. Only moments after those fell, more and more followed, growing fatter and wetter with each second. Yuffie ran for cover, standing under an old abandoned noodle cart, ushering Red under, as well.

"What are we going to do now?" Yuffie asked over the sound of rain and rushing water blanketed the air.

Red frowned for a moment, before saying, "Call up the others and tell them our position and that we've lost the trial. I think I have a pretty good idea, though, of which direction it was heading."

Yuffie nodded quickly, flipping open her cell and speed dialing, the tens of phone charms clinking against each other, "Hey, Cloud? Red's lost the trail because of the rain, but we're gonna keep going---he says he thinks he knows the direction it was heading. Call you with an update soon." She snapped it shut and shoved it back into her pocket. "Well," she said, addressing her comrade, "Let's get going."

Red led on, making sure to keep his tail moving, while Yuffie shivered and stomped her feet with cold, desperately wishing she had brought an umbrella. In only a few minutes she was soaked to the bone, though she was glad she had her vest, which kept her upper body a semblance of dry and warm. Though her fingers and toes were losing feeling, her sneakers squishing uncomfortably with every step. Meanwhile, both kept moving, Yuffie following close behind as Red led her through one of the rougher parts of Midgar.

Soon Red stopped, looking down at the ground before him, Yuffie narrowly missing his tail by millimeters. "Why are we stopping?" She asked.

"I'm positive---the scent that was constant with Vincent's reeked of Mako, gun powder, and sewer." He answered, placing a paw onto of a grate. "Try lifting it up."

Yuffie did so, heaving it over while puffing at the effort, looking down into it. "It s almost full water, though!"

Red nodded, "Yes, but this afternoon it wasn't. It was dry as a bone." He gestured towards another building, off to their right, "These are the largest tunnels too---they're right next to the sewage treatment plant. The ones farther back at Edge are always in use, and the others too small. This grate has been lifted quite recently as well---otherwise you wouldn't have been able to pull it up. The lock must have been taken off as well."

Yuffie nodded, seeing the logic in this. "But we're not going down there, are we?" She didn't like the look of it. Who knew what remains there were down there? Not to mention they'd be swept away in the wrong direction if they even did go down there.

"I'm not sure. We might have to wait till the storm dyes down… Here, call the others."

Yuffie nodded, hunching over her phone as she whipped it out, "Man, I hope it's okay; crap it's all wet." But the screen spluttered to a bright light, and she quickly speed dialed once again. "Hello? Hello Cloud---yo, we've found where they went, but it's…Cloud, can you hear me? Cloud? They're in the sewers…no, the sewers! Sew---no, damn!" She swore as she flipped the phone closed again. "The connection broke."

Red was about to respond when a sudden crash sounded, louder than even the pounding rain. Another one, sounding like tearing metal ripped through, the high pitched screeching making Yuffie cover her ears, "What the hell was that?" She yelled.

Red didn't answer, though he didn't need to. The sudden roar that should the ground drew both fighters' attentions away, making sure everyone and everything could hear. Both looked up to see another figure suddenly burst out of something at least a few blocks away, the dark cloaking it easily. It's wide wings flapped as it swerved, then set off in a direction, towards the lights of Edge.

It didn't matter though---both comrades knew who it was.

"Chaos?" Yuffie guessed, a pained look on her face.

Red frowned for a moment, before muttering something under his breath and sprinting off in the direction the figure had come from, Yuffie racing to catch up.

"What are you doing? That's Vincent---and he just went to Edge as _Chaos_!" Yuffie shouted, angry and confused. Why was Red going this way when Vincent was obviously going the other?

"The others already know---if it is him, they will detain him. If I'm right…Vincent is this way."

∞

Red was right. Vincent was not currently flying over the grungy remains of Midgar, but was instead struggling not to get shot by the old Priest's servant, Samuel. The new Chaos had flew through the rafters and burst a messy hole through the meter's thick roof, throwing large cement blocks and sheets of metal down on his way. Vincent was left to scramble out of the way, while Samuel stood still, apparently stunned.

But not for long. The battle had abruptly started, with an angry, bewildered Samuel, wielding two large guns with sharp precision, against Vincent, who was forced to scramble away, body still in the awkward halfway transformation. The large horns were heavy and awkward, and his legs were bent at an awkward, though still usable angle. And the black and white vision was terribly confusing---seeing as everything in the church was a dull grey already, and the only light was from the hole in the roof and the limited candlelight

He had sliced through the leather belts holding him to the chair with ease, thankfully dodging a bullet that had been heading for his head. He had stumbled out of the chalk circle, not caring that his now taloned feet sizzled against the white, and left black footprints.

Vincent hid behind a pillar to the left of the altar, waiting for Samuel to stop shooting, in the mean time, analyzing what he had in the way of a weapon. His guns were gone, as were his knives and materia. He patted down his tattered cloak but found nothing, though a glint of gold caught his eye. His claw–his metal prosthetic.

Rolling out and jumping quickly across the room, he landed against the other columns, jumping from one to the other, a rapid succession of bullets following behind him. He threw a glance the attacker's way, and was surprised to see that he recognized his choice of guns–for they were his own, Cerberus and death Penalty.

A stripe of anger ran through him, propelling him to leap over top of the man, then sliding down the column near the stage. The current gunner whirled around, choosing instead to shoot him at level-range, instead of missing at an overhead shot.

He needed to get in close-range, he knew, he just needed to time to do it. Vincent reached out from behind the pillar and grasped a chandelier, the large trident-like top heavy with wax. Whipping it around so that it came from the other side, Vincent threw the large metal piece at the gunslinger, smoothly completing the turn to end up behind the other column beside his previous in the process. He watched as the man quickly ducked the flying piece, bending fluidly out of the way, and turning again to shoot.

Vincent needed a change of plans, and quickly. He was practically cornered here, and could barely see anything. He stared for a moment longer at the blackness around him, before an idea suddenly formed in his mind. Samuel's mako-enhanced vision certainly wasn't night-vision, especially with those glasses on. Vincent quickly turned around to face the pole, and carefully started scaling the side, his feet's rubbery pads on the bottom helping immensely, so that he made not a sound.

The shooting had stopped by now, as Samuel waited for Vincent to make his next move. His glowing eyes behind his sunglasses darted around, this way and that, not sure which way he would come from. It was quiet, a piercing quiet that rang in his ears, not a sound echoing in the vast chamber.

And then a rustle, and a flash of red.

Vincent plunged his sharp, glinting claw into his lower abdomen, yet retracting it quickly. The man fell to his knees, his eyes wide in both fright and surprise, his hands shaking as he drew them to his wound, and eventually fell to a heap on the ground.

Vincent Valentine, however, was never one for prolonged good-byes, and so was already leaping up and out through the roof, after Chaos.

∞

Yuffie and Red met him outside, Yuffie letting out a loud exclamation of surprise at both Vincent's sudden appearance, as well as his physical: "Holy, shit!"

He was equally surprised to see them, though a cold part of him warmed at the sight. Perhaps his heart, by chance?

She ran up to him, stopping before him, eyes wide and innocent, reminding him of a little child. "What…what happened?" It was almost too soft to hear over the pounding rain hitting surfaces, but he heard it.

"…A lot. But I'm alright."

She grinned, eyes wet, though whether it was from the rain or not he couldn't tell, and sprang up to wrap her little arms around his tall, hunched frame. "I'm glad you're okay…" She murmured into his warm yet wet cloak.

She suddenly pulled away, "Ew, you smell like wet dog." She grinned though, saying brightly, "Well, I suppose we should go find that Chaos-imposter, now, shouldn't we? Cloud probably has his hands full, what without me and my supah-all-powerful ninja skillz there to hold his ass up."

Red nodded close behind, as both looked at Vincent.

He set the two guns in his hands back in their appropriate holsters, and nodded shortly.

∞

They arrived to find the whole gang, minus themselves, in action. They had herded him back into the edges of the old Midgar city thankfully, which was void of the many people and tall buildings Edge consisted of. They had been fighting for a little under an hour, with the rain continuing to drown everything in grey, its wind howling around them like the enraged demon that flew in it, as branches of lightning forked down from the dark and angry clouds, threatening to strike, as thunder boomed and clapped, ringing in their ears.

Chaos was badly hurt; this new form no match for the AVALANCHE crew, despite the conditions. His white and red form was clearly visible in the abysmal weather, as was the spurts of blood falling along with the rain. His wings were torn, making it even harder for him to fly, and his body was cut in criss-crosses. He howled roughly, before falling, torn black wings snapping behind him in the harsh wind.

It fell with a crash through the roof of a building, shards of glass following after him, as the rest of the party members landed around the hole, careful to watch for any sign of movement. Though when they looked, it was not a demon they were staring at, but part of a man as well.

Vincent landed on the ground inside the building by the bloodied and beaten man, who was most definitely not going to move. The others landed around him, careful not to land on the corpse. Vincent himself looked at the pitiful thing. The body was too bloody and mutated to make out, some joints not having made the change back before Chaos soul had left them. The man face was gaunt, the mouth devoid of the crazy grin.

"So, what do we do now?" Tifa asked above the din of the falling rain pounding on the glass above. She was carefully avoiding looking at the dead man on the floor, accepting a hand from Cloud.

"I don't know…"Cloud answered, gazing solemnly at the corpse, then at Vincent.

"I suppose we need to get Vincent back to normal…" Yuffie supplied from beside him, poking a spike on his back and smiling slightly. Part of Vincent marveled at how she wasn't even the slightest afraid of him, even when he looked like a monster.

"Yeah, what happened to 'foo?" Barret asked.

Vincent sighed, but Yuffie spoke up for him, "It's a long story."

"Well, you betta tell it ta us some day." Barret said.

It was quiet, all somewhat dazed by the events, until Red spoke up, "What about Everlast? The planet still has it, as does Vincent."

The planet answered this time.

An earthquake shook the earth beneath them, throwing them about like rag dolls, making them grunt and yell as they sought shelter as the loose glass above their heads fell, Yuffie clinging to Vincent, who backed away into the corner. Boxes and crates fell from the piles they had been in, crashing and splitting open, loud cracking and crashing noises sounding all around them.

Then it stopped.

"What the HELL was that?" Yuffie exclaimed near Vincent, as both Cid and Barret let out a stream of profanities. Cloud shook his head, Tifa as bewildered as he, while Red supplied no answer.

Suddenly Cait bounced up, voice panicked and scratchy, apparently from the rain and the beating, "There are several earthquakes erupting all over Midgar and Edge---and they're going to keep coming!" he reported.

Cloud grunted and sprung up through the hole, searching for a way to see the damage. The others followed, and were met by an awful sight: much destruction could be seen throughout the already destroyed Midgar, and older parts of edge were Freeway structures hadn't been built well, which had be turned right over on their side.

But apparently the Planet wasn't done quite yet. Another massive tremor zipped through, this one quicker than the last, though still massive. The team barely had enough time to ready themselves before another and another ripped through. But this time, a loud yet low _groan_ echoed throughout the air, clear enough through the rest of the weather's fuss. Another groan, accompanied this time by a ripping and crunching noise.

They could see it, coming from the south, a sink in the land, a crack, in which houses fell rapidly, road breaking off and falling into it, skyscrapers teetering before falling over.

And then their eyes were drawn to the ShinRa towers, as the entire structure was lifted up a good fifty meters, before it plunged down into the earth, the green glow swallowing it whole.

∞

∞

∞

∞

∞

Sooo glad I finished this chapter---thirty and a half thousand words in three hours, last night. Just quick edited it and added this today. Only two more chapters to go, which will go up by at least tomarrow. The final scene to our lovely Everlast! 3

Anyways, few notes, just saying that yeah, I forgot to mention that rain would be coming down the big hole in the church, and that yeah, that whole fight scene kinda sucked. Oh yeah, and a big sorry for all the jumping around and such. But oh well---I'm pressed for time, what with Hallowe'en so close. And I MUST get this done…

Love ya all!

cheesynoodle


	14. Chapter 14

_They could see it, coming from the south, a sink in the land, a crack, in which houses fell rapidly, road breaking off and falling into it, skyscrapers teetering before falling over. _

_And then their eyes were drawn to the ShinRa towers, as the entire structure was lifted up a good fifty meters, before it plunged down into the earth, the green glow swallowing it whole._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Fourteen.**

"_Bring me back, Vincent Valentine, and I shall give you back your precious."_–Chaos

The earth was cracking---it was cracking into pieces! Yuffie's mind screamed. She dimly wondered if she actually _was_ screaming, but it didn't matter: the din of the cracking and groaning and crashing was too much. She shouldn't have even bothered.

And that _groaning_! It was the groan of the earth and the Planet, or perhaps just the groan of the rocks ripping apart from each other, letting that horrible horrible, disgusting and sickening green glow fly upwards into the just as angry sky, dying the clouds and their tears so that it looked like it was raining that sick energy called Mako. Yuffie personally believed it was the planet---for it was so terrible heart wrenching, it made her soul shiver, her body shake, destroyed any sense of peace her mind had previously held.

She grabbed Vincent's clawed hand that was closest, fighting to stay upright, but ultimately failing, and instead clinging to it like a lifeline. Te other's around them struggling just as much, eyes wide in panic, bodies either on the ground or about to be. Even the ever-graceful gunslinger next to her was having trouble. She recognized several of the AVALANCHE members' mouths were open, perhaps screaming of saying something. She wondered if, had the rest of the world been put on mute, they would have been able to hear the collective scream of Midgar and Edge.

Soon the earthquake stopped, as suddenly as it had begun, though the crashing of falling buildings around them still bombarded their ears. Vincent lugged both of them, Yuffie still clinging to him, over to Cloud, who was cradling Tifa as well.

"We have to get out of here!" Cloud shouted, glancing back at where the ShinRa tower had once stood. Vincent nodded, while Yuffie tried to wipe water out of her eyes and untangle the red cloak from her as it billowed and whipped about her frame. Cloud signaled to the rest of them, each of them nodding, easily guessing what he meant.

But yet another quake ripped through the town, this one bringing something new with it. A stroke of vertical green flew into the sky, others following suit. It was mako, threw up by the planet, so that the rain turned a glowing green in minutes.

Yuffie screeched and tried to cover her head with her arms, as others fallowing suit. They sought shelter, Cloud waving them over to the hole in the roof they were standing on, the others jumping in after him. Inside there were broken crates and bashed boxes, but it was still better than getting mako poisoning. They tried to stable themselves as well as keep away from the hole, though it was nary but impossible to not get sprayed–the wind whipped about, changing direction almost constantly, throwing the mako-rain in at different angles each time.

Finally the harsh shaking died to a low rumble, as the team gathered about in the farthest corner. They were all freezing cold and wet, and scared out of their minds. They had never seen anything like this, even that time in Mideel. _Geysers_ of mako, shooting up into the sky!

"What the f!#'s going on?" Cid shouted, for once mouth void of the familiar cigarette.

Barret shook his head, teeth audibly chattering, "What're we gonna do, foo? What about all those people?"

Cloud shook his head, as dumfounded as the rest of them. "I don't know–the people will have to evacuate themselves. WE should too. I don't think there's any way to stop it."

"It is because of the Everlast? I mean, why would it suddenly do that?" Tifa asked, large ruddy brown eyes wide in concern, though her face showed that she was no stranger to having no hope.

"Who cares? There's nothing we can do–let's just get out of here! Maybe we can help the people on the edges?" Yuffie spoke, teeth chattering as well, cheeks a blotchy red from the whiplash of the rain.

Cloud's eyes were sorrowful as he nodded, his hair partly flattened for once. "It's the planet itself doing this now. There is no Sephiroth this time to stop. Yuffie's right–we'll worry about how this happened later. Right now we need to get out of here." He looked around their tiny circle, faces set in resolute grimaces. "Right. Now let's mosey!"

The team nodded, one by one jumping up and out of the hole. Yuffie tugged on Vincent's cape, careful of the spikes just out, looking up into his face, smiling, though not with its usually sunny flavor. "Let's get going, Vince." But the man neither moved nor spoke. "Vince?" Yuffie called, walking a step in front to see his face. What she saw a distant mask, made of unseeing eyes and white skin. For a moment she thought he to be dead, but quickly assured herself that if he was to go out, this was not the way he would be doing it.

"Vincent? Vincent, answer me!" Yuffie stomped her foot and scowled, temporarily forgetting that she was freezing cold and wet all over, even through her vest now. Reaching up, she poked his cheek, but not even that got a response. "Vincent Valentine, are you there?" She asked, over enunciating her words. But still no answer. She tried to drag him over the hole, grabbing his arms and pulling, shoving him with all her might, but nothing, _nothing_ would make him budge. Not even when she gave him a Wet Willy.

Vincent wasn't in the conscious realm anymore. Somewhere halfway through the groups little discussion his conscious mind had been pulled back, somewhere. He had lost sense of his body–gone was the stinging lash of rain and wind, his bodies aches and pains. He couldn't move even if he wanted to, though he didn't. He knew this was important, that only one person, no, demon, could do this.

Chaos was calling him. Though unlike the other times he had done so, it was not with rages and flares of anger and malice, with red bleeding into his vision. This time there was a complete sense of urgency to it, and almost like Chaos himself was actually physically dragging him away.

So Vincent let him. He let himself be led away, let that strange feeling of Chaos essence pull him, lead and nudge him along, his eyes open but seeing nothing, his body there but not feeling anything at all. And at first all there was, was blackness. Not dark, not light, no smell, touch, sight, taste, like in the beginning of all things. But there was feeling.

"_Bring me back, Vincent Valentine, and I shall give you back your precious."_

A voice formed out of the blackness. Vincent did not hear it, and yet he listened to it, felt the slight growl underlying it, the tired and sad tones that wove through it. He knew it was Chaos.

"Yes."

A sudden burst of heat flew from his heart outwards, seeming to fizzle and spit like a real fire, burning through and through him, until the entire trail of heat had flown from his heart, to his mind. A roar erupted there, and the same feeling began to overtake Vincent, though this time it wasn't malice nor hate, but a righteous fury and power. The sound of roar deafened his own ears and shattered any thoughts–it encompassed his whole, body, min, and soul, until all of it, was Chaos'.

Yuffie shrieked, hurriedly stepping back, still not caring about the even greener rain that drenched her, hands held in front of her in fright. He was transforming into Chaos right before her eyes, with no apparent reason at all. Hell, she had thought that that man was Chaos! And here she was, watching Vincent grow a tail and grew wings, his body stretching and crunching and popping, until before her, stood that great, demonic beast.

Yuffie had once made a promise to herself, that she would never, never ever, be afraid of Vincent. It had particularly been after that incident in Midgar, up on that great tower with that stupid wack scientist named Hojo. The gunslinger had transformed then, into Chaos for the first time that battle. Vincent had lost control–he had ripped Hojo to pieces, literally. And yet it hadn't sated his hunger for revenge at all.

Afterwards, after she had seen how Vincent had looked as everyone stared nervously at him, she had promised to herself that she would never be scared of him again. Because he was a friend, and friends aren't scared of their friends.

Right now, she had to take it all back.

In front of her stood Chaos, in all his glory and death. He breathed in and out, heavy chest lifting and lowering, and flapped his wings. He grinned, a toothy smile, apparently glad to be alive, and in his 'proper' place again. He turned and looked down at her, yellow eyes quite alive and gleaming, and addressed her, _"…I will not hurt you. I have returned to host's body to restore all things precious to him. I will not hurt _you_."_

She eyed him warily, not quite believing him, though she couldn't actually say she could even understand him. All things precious? What does that mean? And what happened to Vinnie?

But before she could respond, the demon had swept her up and launched out of the building, through the roof once again. Her voice, even her breath, was whipped away by the combination of the ferocious wind and speed they were traveling at. All she heard was the loud howling, which could only perhaps be matched by Chaos' cry. She didn't open her eyes–they were either frozen shut or simply held down by the motion. And all she felt was cold, cold, cold. Not even Chaos was warm.

This lasted for a few moments at the most, and yet when she was gently set down she recognized the ground as being hard-packed dirt; they had flown straight out of Edge. She rubbed at her eyelids, fingers partly frozen as well, so that her eyes finally opened. By the time they did, Chaos was already gone, and she was left staring at a crumbling city, being doused in its own life's source.

∞

Chaos flew on, dodging falling towers and rising geysers, making an arrow for the center of the city, where a growing hole in the planets skin was situated. His wings flapped powerfully, sending him flying through the air kilometers at a time. His yellow eyes were narrowed, his whole body streamlined for exactly this.'

He arrived at the whole in seconds, wings spreading a good few meters to slow his arrival, then flapping to keep him airborne. There was little time he knew, and it might even be too late. But he knew what he had promised his host, and so he knew what to do.

He roared. His voice and cry louder than ever, for it shook the already shaking earth, echoed throughout the city, made the citizens cry out and cover their ears, for it plunger deep into not their hearts but there souls, and had their souls not had such a strong grip, it would have let go, and followed the cry.

In some ways it was another reunion. Though not of Sephiroth's kind.

For out of that deep, swirling sea of green, emerged forms, the spectral forms of the dead. And their cry rose with them. It would haunt those of weaker souls for their lives, echo in their worst nightmares. It was a cry of longing, of guilt, of pain and tragedy, of hate. But it was the cry of those ready to serve.

Chaos roared yet again in welcome, stretching his whole body, and letting them swarm up around him. From afar it would look like just another geyser, though this one a swirling, udilating mass that lingered long after, not just yet ready to join the rain. These souls, faces twisted and demented, of all races and kinds, all had one thing in common. They were those that had served in Chaos' foolish war, those that had perished denying goods and riches, instead seeking to simply keep their home, their peace and their lives.

They knew what they had to do, without being told nor directed, the same way Vincent had known to follow Chaos' presence. The spread out, fanning over the entire city, their mouths forever open in a cry, eating up the rain and wind and air, though they would never be able to taste such things again. They settled at the cracks and creases, their celestial forms larger than life so that they stood three-men tall. They readied themselves and …they pushed.

Another section came up, pushing up another piece of the earth's crust, the one that had previously been wormed through with ShinRa's Company. It flew up, meeting on all sides with the surrounding rock, though there were still gaping holes in the rock. The ghosts and ghouls flew and fluttered upwards, again converging where Chaos was, before shooting out yet again to the rock, layering themselves so that it looked like the mako itself had splurged upwards, spilling over.

And Chaos cried once more, one full of pain, regret and guilt. And before his eyes, his soldiers once again sacrificed themselves for him once again. The clouds broke, the sick grey of them sucked down, towards Chaos himself, leaving only graying clouds behind. Before they could let loose, those too were sucked down, revealing a clear blue sky, crystalline and pure. And under the morning sun's look, the mournful souls slowly hardened, becoming a hard, black rock.

Chaos himself was slowly turning the same bone-white, as before, though his eyes were still the same gleaming yellow. His white body fell, his wings no longer keeping him aloft, down, towards the planet. He let not a sound out, instead simply closing his eyes, finally, forever. He crumbled, hi ashes flying through the air behind him, black as always, his soul nor his body ever reaching the planet.

All that was left was ash, until that too crumbled, becoming dead dust, before that whittled away into nothing as well.

∞

∞

∞

∞

∞

Well…I definitely thought that would be longer. I even went back through, looking for a place to add something in, but couldn't find any. I'm sorry if that disappointed you…  though I really hope you liked it, and that it at least almost lived up to your expectations (which were hopefully very low XD).

Aaaaand…finally, the death of Chaos. WAHHHHH!!! Poor guy. He never really, felt the loooove. Lol, gimme a hug, big guy!

Anyways, only one chapter left. I am sincerely getting teary, especially with the dramatic Advent Children music playing in my ears (I love it).

As always, faithfully yours,

Cheesynoodle.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chaos himself was slowly turning the same bone-white, as before, though his eyes were still the same gleaming yellow. His white body fell, his wings no longer keeping him aloft, down, towards the planet. He let not a sound out, instead simply closing his eyes, finally, forever. He crumbled, his ashes flying through the air behind him, black as always, his soul nor his body ever reaching the planet. _

_All that was left was ash, until that too crumbled, becoming dead dust, before that whittled away into nothing as well._

∞**EVERLAST**

**Chapter Fifteen.**

"Thanks."---Yuffie Kisaragi

They had been searching for hours, looking everywhere they could think of, among the wreckage and the carnage, and yet still, nothing. Not a flash of red, other than that that dripped from beams and windows, the occupants inside deceased, in the most horrific ways. The city itself had suffered much damage, what had been considered a mess before was totally destroyed, and there was little left of many building in Midgar that were piles of rubble, cement blocks, shards of glass, thick wires bent and lashing out. Edge itself had suffered much damage, many of the freeways having collapsed, but there were some office and apartments buildings that had survived the cracks, primarily of the west and eastern sides. A state of emergency had been declared, and hundreds of volunteers, firefighters, police, anyone who was willing from the other surrounding cities and towns were pouring in. The wasteland surrounding the city had been covered quickly with the bright neon-orange polka dots of the safety tents, some people even living in cars and vans.

The AVALANCHE crew was doing everything possible for the citizens of Edge, while trying to keep up a consistent search for the lost gunslinger. It was entirely possible that he was still out there, in all that rubble and destruction, where the rescue workers hadn't searched yet. The two combined cities were absolutely huge–stretched over at least a few miles. They had barely even searched the out rings of it. And who knows–he could have already been found, one of the many injured and wounded, taken to one of the mini-hospitals, where nobody knew who he was. He might be alive, and they just didn't know it, though the chances were slim.

And yet through all the hope that they force-fed their minds, the one single, clear thought that lurked in the back of their heads, that doubtful, black little thought spoke out convincingly: _"And what if he's dead?"_ What then? Were they wasting their precious time, looking for somebody, most likely, already dead?

But no one could deny that their time was more precious than those they found trapped beneath the rubble, gasping for breath, barely able to call out. Worse were those trapped inside the tunnels and buildings, the WRO's devices detecting slowing fading warmth, while they were unable to reach them. You'd think they would be able to–they were supposedly heroes after all. But it's true that sometimes, there is nothing anybody can do. The worse, Tifa had thought too many a time, was the family that shouted at them, begged them, cursed them, to do anything–anything at all.

They couldn't look for _just_ Vincent–every block there was at least five people left, and they couldn't just abandon them, now could they? Progress was slow, making Yuffie restless. She couldn't get past the fact that somewhere out there, Vincent could be bleeding to death, while she helped somebody's grandma she didn't know out of her crumbling house. It was a battle of morals: go after her friend, or help those she saw first?

Little was known about what had ended up happening to him anyways. The few from outside the city was limited at best during a sunny day, and with the storm's hissy fit blustering about them, they had had no hope of seeing where Chaos had gone. All the had known was that where dark, bosoms of clouds had stuffed the sky, and poured down sleet and hail and rain, there was left only pale blue, clear sky.

It was almost after half a day, with no rest, that Tifa pulled her aside after she had finished her quick nap. Both of the women had tired, greyed and baggy eyes, their hair lank and dirty, bodies tired and aching, bruises decorating arms and legs. It'd only been a day since it had all began, and yet it seemed like a thousand years. The devastation that had happened in such a short amount of time…

"Yuffie…I need to talk to you." Tifa's voice was crackly and hoarse from yelling, her hand dirty and sweaty on Yuffie's shoulder. Had Yuffie been more awake, she might have cracked a joke about needing a shower and a few tic-tacs, but she didn't­–neither would have really bothered to laugh. "It's about Vincent…"

Yuffie perked up a bit, tired eyes full of hope, her body's stance obviously changing, becoming more alert. And yet there was wariness in her eyes–she knew that most likely, it wouldn't be good news. She nodded, her throat seeming too dry to talk with.

Tifa smiled softly, that little heart-breaking one that Yuffie knew everyone loved and hated a the same time, "We've found him." She continued on before the now ecstatic Yuffie could say anything. "But he's in very bad condition." Her large wine-colored eyes were serious and solemn, though obviously struggling to state the facts, and not comfort Yuffie with white lies.

"He was found on top of one of Midgar's building's…pretty close to the middle. He had been through a lot–he was really beaten up, internal bleeding, cracked ribs and bones…It was one of the rescue teams that found him, just a few hours ago, and took him to one of the doctor's, over in the second camp area."

Yuffie was already up, strapping on her pouches, grabbing her bag and zipping up her coat, slipping into her wet and cold shoes. Tifa smiled warmly, fervently wishing that she wouldn't have to see Yuffie's fragile hope be crushed, not for the first time. The older woman stood up, as much as one can in a tent, and followed Yuffie out the tent's flap, being sure to zip it up behind them.

It was midday, the day after, the sun beaming down happily above, in stark contrast to what had happened the day before. Some would view it as little less than a miracle–the storm had seemed like it had been there forever, swallowed them whole into its stomach, and would never let them go. And yet now the sun was back again, shining in its full glory, and many people, after being retrieved from the rubble, had shed tears at the sight.

Now, Tifa and Yuffie wove through the tiny towns of orange synthetic fabric, people of shapes and sizes, races and backgrounds working together, handing out food rations, pulling up more tents, treating minor wounds with little first aid boxes. Tifa wondered morosely if this was what it took to do something like that, the absolute worst. She saw Yuffie waiting impatiently for her to catch up, for she had been lagging behind, and jogged to catch up. She could tell Yuffie was barely restraining herself from running, and though she would and could have done so, she felt that she shouldn't. She could remember as a child, jogging to her father's room, all the way from her house on the other side of the village, and how she had imagined ghouls and beast nipping at her heels, making her run faster and faster until, when she finally reached her father's house, she was red-faced and sweaty, feet dirty, heart beating wildly.

Yuffie did not want to feel like that. She wanted to feel cool, calm, and collected, despite her already fast-paced heartbeat, how her legs itched to run, and her feet seeming to barely hit the ground. She looked over at Tifa beside her, who was still observing the other people around them, face creased with worry and stress. Yuffie mildly thought she shouldn't do it–she'd get wrinkles.

The trip to the second camp was short, as they were already close to the edge anyways. They continued for a while, and soon a larger, red tent came into view, sending Yuffie sprinting, finally. Tifa ran after her, stopping before she opened the sheet of the plastic fabric, and proceeding inside.

Yuffie had found Vincent easily–it was ridiculous, he was wearing red even now, in the form of bloody bandages. It was obvious the damage that he had taken, and suddenly she was reminded of how, weeks ago, was it? She had seen him get shot, and had panicked. That seemed like such a childish thing, a petty, little mishap, compared to his current state. His chest was bare, and though the many layers of bandages wrapped about his lithe form stopped most of the blood, she could just imagine what kind of horrible cuts, breaks, and tears would be there, for they were stained a horrible red.

His face was gaunt and pale, though his face was cool and dry to the touch, definitely a bad sign. His eyes were not open, as she had expected, but she still felt a tiny part of her sink deeper into despair. She let her hand come up to brush away his gritty, dirty noir locks, fingernails catching on the bandage that was wrapped about his forehead. He looked so odd, alien, in comparison to what she was used to, swathed in all this white and blotchy red. Nothing was sharp and defined anymore; all the colours seemed to blend together around her sight, as she refused to look away. She could distantly hear Tifa's alto, along with a higher one, perhaps one of the nurses. Eventually she felt a hand upon her shoulder, warm against her cold, damp skin, and forced herself to tear her eyes away from his form, bringing a sleeve up quickly to rub viciously at whatever might be there.

"Yuffie…" Yuffie didn't want to believe it, this wasn't happening. She had honestly, never dreamed about this happening, not in a million years. Vincent was eternal, forever, ever lasting.

"They don't think Vincent is going to…live."

And yet she knew Tifa was telling the truth, for she had large tears dripping down her own face. Good ol' Tifa, it was so typical of her, and Yuffie loved her for it. Somehow, it made it that much easier for Yuffie to ignore her own tears, which were much rarer than the martial artist's.

Yuffie sniffed noisily, almost comically, looking up into the other woman's eyes, who immediately gathered her up in a hug. Yuffie clutched pitifully, finding comfort in the simple warmth Tifa offered.

"Is…is there not anything we can do?" Yuffie's muffled question came, and Tifa felt her little body's suppressed shudders break through against Yuffie's better judgment. Tifa cooed and made shushing noises, rocking Yuffie back and forth a bit for a moment, as she had done countless times for Marlene. As ridiculous as it was, it actually helped Yuffie, and soon she had strung a watery smile about her features, pushing Tifa away a bit, chuckling.

Tifa herself smiled sadly, and murmured softly, "I'm going to get the others, I'll be back soon. You'll be…alright?"

Yuffie nodded, "Yeah, thanks." She assured her, though Tifa knew she was far from all right. Tifa smiled again, glancing once back at Vincent, before departing.

Yuffie felt very alone, all of a sudden. The air was filled with the sharp and soft rustling of fabric, the clink of sharp metal, the bubble of voices talking. The air was warm, though it smelled of medicine and that wierd, too-clean smell hospital's always carried. She wondered how many hospitals Vincent Valentine had been in. Though Hojo's lab definitely wouldn't have passed the health and safety test.

She found herself sitting there, hand loosely clasped about Vincent's cold one, the slow beat of his heart ringing through her ears via the heart monitor, the only real sign, she supposed, that he was still alive. She couldn't feel his…presence, anymore. None of that brooding gloom, or even that comforting aura that she had begun to feel around him. And for that reason, she felt alone. She found herself thinking over what he had done, and found that she had never _really_ asked him what it was like, before AVALANCHE had woke him up, most rudely. She wondered what he remembered from his waking, in comparison to her account. She wondered and pondered about what a fascinating creature Vincent Valentine had been, and was rather irritated with herself–he wasn't dead _yet_. This was not the time to write his eulogy!

And she thought of, perhaps most of all, what he hadn't done. Or rather, what he hadn't done with her around. She hadn't seen him eat ice cream. She hadn't seen him swing on swings. She had never given him a proper tour of Wutai, complete with naming all her twenty-four cats, and introduced him nicely to her stupid father. Hell, she had barely ever had a descent conversation around something that didn't involve that stupid disease, what had been happening to him, and what was going to happen to them in the future. She would have liked to at least have a normal conversation, about anything at all, with him. Right now, she'd even settle with his pitiful excuse for one, containing more "…"s than when she had laughed herself silly at his snowboard adventure up in the Northern Continent.

And still, somehow it was totally unreal. She felt like she was holding the hand of a dummy on one of those murder mystery shows, or something, while the real Vincent was behind the control booth, making the techies piss themselves. She wondered what the very, very last seconds would be like. If he would do anything, if he might open his eyes, or his mouth to say something. Because hell, she couldn't remember his last words, though she could probably guess what it was.

Now that she thought about it, she supposed he was going to go where Lucrecia was, wasn't he?

She harrumphed, though tearily, and slumped forward, letting her cheek rest against his cold hand, not bothering with her backpack, which eventually fell off her back by itself. She didn't notice the distant _chink, _nor the bright glowing orb that made it's way away from her.

She raised her head a bit, taking another view of his face, and wondered what honestly was going to happen. For she knew there was no hope, now.

But something in her rallied against that thought.

"Miss? I think you dropped this?" A voice broke her poignant thoughts, and she raised her head warily, to find a young medic looking at her, holding a familiar looking rounded object in his hands, its golden depths glowing with a subtle brilliance. Her eyes seemed to come alive at the sight of it again, and her hands seemed to reach out to accept it of their own accord. The doctor looked at her sympathetically, realizing that she must have some connection with the obviously dying man in front of them, before turning to walk off.

She felt the warmth, a familiar yet different warmth of the materia, the light that shone in warped pattern across her dirty palms. It was the very same materia that the doctor had extracted from Vincent's chest. She must have put it in her pocket, or something, and had carried it all through the action, to here. Now. She wondered at the silent feat, her upbringing directing her thought's to that of the fate and gods, silently thanking them. It made her feel, through the ache in her heart, through the muffled grey in her mind, clarity. Things came into sharp focus, her mind finally processing things at a faster pace, her mind no longer foggy. It reminded her of a bright, brisk morning, after the sun had burnt away the remains of the fog, leaving the sun to shine down upon her, sending its warmth to soak into her skin.

Indeed, the materia in her hands was growing hotter and hotter, though she felt no need to release it.

"I wonder," she muttered to herself, her eyes clear, no longer doused by the sadness and death that reeked, seeping through the air. Suddenly she felt warmer, and, though strange enough as it was, as though she wasn't alone anymore.

Vincent wasn't dead. She could still hear that blasted beep of the monitor; see his chest rise slightly, a subtle shuddering go through him each time. He wasn't gone yet, and there simply wasn't any reason to give up _all_ hope for him, then, now was there?

She regarded the materia orb in her hands, which spun it about; their nerves familiar to the touch of the flawless mako, and her ears listened intently as her eye stared into its depths, listening for its song. She hadn't even tried it, she supposed. It might not even do anything. It was Everlast, though, wasn't it? The very thing that had tried to kill, Vincent. Of course, he couldn't get any worse than this, a part of her mind reasoned.

She stood, determination filling her eyes, pulling out a simple band of silver with a materia holster on one side, fitting the materia into place easily. She took a few deep breathes, knowing that if it was ever to work, she would need all of her energy. _If it worked_, she repeated in her mind. There was a chance, though she was sure it was miniscule. And she felt the warm, overflowing heat of hope through her heart.

She cast it, letting her arms follow through the graceful movements with practiced ease, having done it countless times in and out of the heat of battle. The light from the orb intensified, shining brightly so that it almost blinded her, as her hair whipped about her head, blown by a sudden warm wind. She felt the familiar heat of the spell, the whoosh of tingling magic drawn up through her feet from the dirt floor, up and up to her heart and then out, through her. _To Vincent_, she thought, pretending to nudge the exhilarating whoosh of magic through her, and into the almost lifeless body in front of her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the rest of the sizzling magic travel through, rushing through her body so that when it had finally gone, all that was left was a very tired, aching in her body, the aftermath of the spell. She felt her limbs return to her jellified, limp against her sides, as her body slumped back into the chair she had been sitting on. She sighed, her body heaving upwards, and then she opened her eyes.

Nothing had changed. She saw that immediately, for her was still lying there, still as ever, eyes closed. That great burst of magic had done nothing, though it had physically made her weaker. Frig, Yuffie thought angrily, what kind of a materia was that?

But then something started to happen. It was small first, so that she barely caught it. The ease in his breathing, the twitch of a finger, the colour returning to his face. She snatched his hand, checking for a pulse, and finding a steady one, along with warm flesh. She gasped, perhaps in disbelief and surprise, and she dared to believe it–that he was going to live.

The rest took place in under a matter of seconds, the popping and silent mending of bones squeezing back into place, muscle matter and insides forming in their usual patterns and shapes, cuts and wounds, even bruises disappearing, all beneath the bandages. And finally, her opened his eyes.

He couldn't see anything at first, for the lights of the tent blared brightly in his eyes, scaring his retinas, so that he was seeing dots for the first few seconds. He could definitely _feel_, though. He felt like a thousand-pound weight had been dropped onto his chest, even more so when he felt something launch themselves at him, boney arms strangling his neck in a tight hold. He coughed a bit, wheezing very un-Vincent like, and tried to set himself up in a sitting position, wherever he was. The person (for it was warm, and he knew that scent) that had been clinging to him desperately suddenly pushed him back down, rattling off in a shaky voice about his health and what-not, falling on deaf ears. He blinked a few times, trying to regain his sense of sight. After a few moments, he could now see it was indeed Yuffie who was hugging him again, face buried in his chest, which felt like hell.

"…Ow." Came the rusty voice, crackly and out-of pitch from disuse. Yuffie nearly let out another massive flood of tears at it, and instead raised her head, mouth arranged in a desperately happy, yet very soppy, smile, her wet grey eyes meeting with his bleary red ones.

"Are you okay, Vinnie?" Normally she would have smacked herself for letting her voice sound like a five-year-old's, but she didn't think she could do any better at the moment. Vincent nodded, his face close to hers, unemotional as ever. She wondered what he felt like–for she could feel her heart bursting with joy and happiness, for she was certain he would live. Her eyes were brimming, and she was grinning, as wide as her mouth could possibly go, and she felt that warmth of hope and love flow through her.

She nodded, though Vincent didn't know why, and pressed a quick kiss against his lips, smiling. It wasn't romantic, but rather full of happiness and relief. It was gone before he knew it, dazing him yet again. She laughed loudly, shaking her head, "You need a tic-tac, mister Valentine–your breath _stinks_!"

∞

The others were jubilant as well, when they arrived, saddened, grey faces flashing with sincere surprise when they saw the two, Yuffie sitting right beside Vincent on the bed, smiling sunnily and yattering non-stop, as if nothing had happened. After the happy reunion, they set about talking to the doctor, who kept insisting that something _must_ be wrong with him, for nothing could heal him that fast, and transferring Vincent out, to their tent.

Vincent was quite aware of the irony. He had been saved by Everlast ­the very thing that had been killing him. He, like the others, didn't know how it would have happened. But he was grateful; in a way he had never thought he would be, to be alive. Death would not have been very fun, he presumed, especially with a pissed Chaos there.

Later on, after weeks and weeks of work and determination, Edge would be righted, once again, and the sea of orange tents would slowly disappear, each one popping out until the wasteland was a wasteland once more, and the city was a bustling hive of activity, still severely damaged, but on its way to better health, much as the planet was. The awful disease that had ravaged both plants and animals alike was gone, as was the erratic weather, though that was slow to go. They never found the doctor, and presumed him dead in the crash, for there was barely anything left of his manor.

Vincent still had a few questions to be answered, but he knew several things for sure: Chaos was gone. How and where he didn't know, for then how was he still alive, when Chaos himself had said that neither could live without each other? But he knew Chaos was not with him, for there was not a scalding heat, nor the freezing absence, nor the cacophony of voices that had rung about this head. He felt indeed weaker, but had a 'clean' feeling about him, his mind and sight clear for once, in quite a while.

And Everlast was gone. How so, he wasn't sure, but he had quite a few ideas that included Chaos. He thought, and the other's agreed, that Chaos had taken it from Vincent, perhaps in thanks, payment, or perhaps punishment (for he was no longer immortal, not that he minded much). But Vincent knew that it was no longer with him, of which he was glad.

Chaos had left a mark behind, though. His army, those that had sealed the Planet's wound shut, had left a scar on her. In the center of Midgar, surrounding the huge area of where-ShinRa-once-stood; there was a slope, filled with the tar-like, solid forms of the dead soldiers. Their faces were ingrained into it, some screaming in pain, others in fury. The people of Edge regarded it with a serious mind, thanking them, yet staying as far away from the unnatural landmark.

As for the rest of AVALANCHE, Tifa's bar had remained for the most part unharmed, except for the need of several new set of glasses, and was housing for most of the team for quite a while as they, not for the first time, rebuilt. Soon Red XIII was heading off back to Cosmo Canyon, Cid back to Rocket Town to return to Shera, while Barret took Marlene back to Coral. Yuffie eventually remembered to go home and help Wutai, though she soon realized that Edge was just as much her home as the West Coast, and so returned, the next summer, to the city. Vincent was left, as usual with little much to do. He started working for the WRO, helping around the city, renting out an apartment a little ways away from Tifa's bar (for he had no coffin to go back to), refusing to live there without paying for keep, which Tifa refused to accept. On the day Yuffie arrived with Cid on the _Shera_, all of them came out to the airport and greeted them, exchanging hugs and kisses, loud and quiet hellos. Soon they piled into Cloud's car, double to a seat, and sped home, laughing and chuckling at new brought by the two arrivals.

They arrived home and rushed into the house, and after a little while sat down to dinner, outside, the dark night be-speckled with stars, little candles and lanterns lighting up the back porch as Tifa, Cloud, and Yuffie managed to carry out all the plates and dishes of delectable food. Soon chatter broke out among them, as they ate and feasted, enjoying the warmth of the summer.

Vincent sat in his chair as everyone finished up, silent as always, and looked around, eyes lingering longer on a certain little ninja than on the others. Around them the crickets chirruped, and the busy city's night sounds of cars and people were wafted away with the warm breeze, a comfortable blanket of comfort settling upon them.

He reflected, as he did often, though this time about what had changed.

He was happy, and content, though in a vague sense. For over the span of a year he had finally learned, much through the princess, what happiness again felt like. He now acknowledged the warm, comfortable heat in his heart as it, as he looked at his friends. He no longer felt heavy, and burdened, though there was still much he could, and hopefully would do.

The events of last summer felt far away, a distant memory, full of rain and thunder, of disease and doubt. And he could barely remember what it felt like, to have a hell's demon wrestling with his mind. He supposed he was quite different, compared to the Vincent from before Everlast came.

He took a sip of his wine, noticing that the others were grabbing empty trays and plates to bring back inside to clean, leaving him and Yuffie alone, sitting on the long picnic table's bench.

He looked at her, seeing how much she had grown and changed, both physically, and in his eyes. She was slightly taller, for she marked it every time she came visiting to Final Heaven, but there was also maturity about her. She caught him looking and waggled her eyebrows suggestively, but let a grin break out on her face, instead.

She saw the familiar look in his eyes, and the crease-less fabric of his bandanna, and though she could not see the tiny smile, she could picture it just as well.

∞

∞

∞ **THE END**

∞

∞

AHHHHHHH!!! HOMG, its finished!

:is pelted by rocks: I know, I know, I should've finished it sooner. But really, it's more commemorative this way–dedication to all the procrastination that happened during the production of it.

That being said, the production was so much fun, a huge learning process for me, and such an accomplishment, for little ole' me. But I could never have done it without you, all you fantabulistic reviewers! Flowers and love and chocolate to you all!

Y'know, whenever I finish a chapter, I honestly have nothing left to say, even though while I'm writing, I'm always making notes in my head, to talk about certain things in the chapter, etc. But I'm a notorious short-term memory-loss victim, so I basically have nothing left to say.

Except…that writing this, and finishing it, has made me want to write even more, in both original fiction and fanfiction. I will definitely (there I go, making promises again , ) be writing more of both, so I hope that you might be either super nice, or super bored, and go read some of it.

I've been playing with the idea of continuing Everlast, on into a sequel, but I've never really been a fan of sequels (they usually suck, compared to the original), or series for that matter. I have been, however, totally inspired to delve into the messed-up mind of Vincent Valentine, and the equally, if not more so screwed up mind of Yuffie Kisaragi.

Also, I'd like to say that their relationship, at this end, is mostly platonic, though think what you wish. I'd like to think, that in some very cute and well-written epilogue that does not exist, they find that really are made for each other, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. But as for this ending, I kinda like it, their real friendship. Really hope I didn't make them OCC in the beginning part, though. '

:'D Love you all, and hope to see ya round,

cheesynoodle

aka. Katherine Rae D.

aka. the sniffling authoress

∞ xox


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